


Smile For Me

by luciebell_writes



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Crime, Drama, Haly's Circus, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-19 19:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 40,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciebell_writes/pseuds/luciebell_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's a crazed redhead with a passion for jokes and madness. She's an equally cunning criminal with a desire for power and revenge. Jerome murdered his mother, Lacey murdered her father...naturally they get along a little too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posted directly from my fanfiction.net page. I'll be updating this alongside FF updates.

Jerome was no older than 17 when their paths first crossed.

He was sat outside his mother's trailer while she was was…busy, with yet another one of her gentleman callers. She'd practically thrown Jerome out of the trailer to be with this guy; well, that was after the pair of them had allowed their fists to do the talking. Surprisingly enough, Jerome had gotten used to the beatings – he'd had no choice in the matter – it wasn't like he could run away and join the circus. He already was part of one. Oh, the cruel irony!

So he simply stayed outside the trailer, knees hunched up to his chest, admiring the recent handiwork of his mother's latest 'friend' that was already making itself known on his arm.

Lacey Monroe was visiting the circus with her parents but had snuck away when they had started arguing. It happened a lot; the three of them would be having a nice time, almost like a real family, then without warning the peace would crumble and another war would break out.

Her father had a temper that regularly showed its ugly face. It felt like they were walking on eggshells every day and, while Lacey had rarely been on the receiving end, it was a whole other story for Mrs Monroe. When her mother had misplaced his car keys, he punched her in the gut. When her mother had burned dinner, he threw a plate at her head. And when she'd refused his idea of intercourse, he pushed her down the stairs.

The girl walked away from the dazzling lights and the sound of blaring music to where the staff trailers were in the hopes of getting a moment of peace to herself. The area was dimly lit but she could make out the silhouette of a boy her age sat on the ground outside one of the far trailers. It seemed that he hadn't noticed her so Lacey continued walking, recalling her father's words of warning about talking to strangers. She did her best to avoid eye contact with the boy; especially when he called out to her just before she could hide behind one of the trailers.

"Hey." He repeated, his tone almost luring her over. Clearly this boy was lonely.

Despite herself, Lacey turned her head to face him.

"You look nervous. Come, sit over here!" He exclaimed, patting the patch of grass beside him.

"I…I really shouldn't." The girl insisted quietly, taking a small step closer.

"What's wrong? Fear doesn't suit a pretty girl like you, a smile would look much nicer." He chuckled slightly, his blue eyes fixed on her. "What's your name?"

"It's getting dark, I really should…um…"

"What's your name?" He asked again, his tone firmer this time.

"Lacey..." She replied quickly, glancing behind her at where the lights from the tent were just about visible. Was she really safe?

"Lacey! What a pretty name." The boy's unnerving enthusiasm returned and Lacey felt a shiver run down her spine when he said her name in that excited manner. "I'm Jerome Valeska."

"…You work here?"

"Yeah, my mom's the snake dancer and the circus whore."

"Oh…" Lacey glanced at the ground, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, gorgeous." Jerome grinned and got to his feet. "You've already made my day sneaking back here."

He moved towards Lacey but looked offended when she took a step back. "Hey, don't tell me you're scared."

Lacey shook her head and allowed the red-headed boy to come closer, his body inches from hers. "See, this is better right? Now we're just two people having a nice conversation." He smiled at her, hoping for a response. "So why're you back here on your own?"

While she initially hesitated telling Jerome anything, Lacey quickly realised that he was harmless; if only a little quirky. "I was just…sick of hearing my parents argue. Well, my dad."

"Do they fight a lot?"

His enquiry made Lacey blink in surprise; this complete stranger was taking a genuine interest in her troubles even though they hardly knew anything about each other. Perhaps it would be nice to be able to tell someone about her family life and never see him again after her confession. "My dad does the fighting. My mom just stands there and takes it."

"And what about you?" Jerome asked, furrowing his brow. "Does your dad ever hit you?"

"Not often. But…" Lacey hesitated: was this really an appropriate conversation to share with someone you'd just become acquainted with?

"You can tell me you know." Jerome rolled up his sleeve, revealing several dark bruises and gashes. "I get it. My mom gets angry a lot too."

For the first time, Lacey stared Jerome straight in the eye; her scared brown pools meeting his at last. But instead of telling him about her father, all Lacey could do was hug the red-headed circus boy.

When Jerome felt the girl's arms around him, he instantly responded in the same way, wrapping his arms around her body protectively. She couldn't find the words to explain what her dad was like but it was okay – because Jerome already knew.

Lost in her embrace, Jerome couldn't help but savour every one of his overwhelmed senses: he could smell her sweetness and hear her gentle breathing even if she didn't say a word. Carefully, Jerome brought a hand up to run his fingers through the girl's long brunette hair and, feeling overcome by emotion at having felt tender human contact, he closed his eyes and smiled.

And, to her surprise, Lacey found herself doing the same. She was smiling.

Eventually, Lacey heard her father calling through the crowd and knew that she had to head back out into the artificial bright lights. "How long is the circus here for?" She asked, still smiling slightly.

"A few more weeks I think." Jerome told her, missing Lacey's warmth already. "Why're you asking? Thinking of coming back to visit me, gorgeous?"

To his surprise, Lacey nodded. "I am, actually."

"Well, that's…great." The boy laughed a little too loud. "That's really great!"

Lacey tittered slightly herself, his unusual laugh slightly unsettling – even after the close moment they had just shared. However, it wasn't enough to deter Lacey from coming back; she'd already promised Jerome and herself that she would.

Her father's irritated voice could be heard again. "I should go…" She smiled one last time. "It was nice meeting you, Jerome."

Jerome smiled as he watched Lacey round the corner and disappear out of sight; merging with the rest of the crowd, becoming lost in a sea of idiotic fools. She wouldn't be lost for too long though – she'd promised to come back before the circus headed elsewhere and Jerome knew that he would cling to those words until he saw her pretty face again. He was going to, of course, because she promised.

However, days passed and Jerome still hadn't heard from the girl he was quick to become fascinated with.

"Oh, Lacey. What a funny little thing you are." Jerome laughed to himself as he sat outside his trailer in the same position as he had done when Lacey had first caught his eye. "Promising to visit then not showing up. I can't believe I slipped your mind…"

The same routine continued for the rest of the week, until it was almost time for Haly's Circus to pack up and move on to the next city.

It was only then that Jerome learned the reason behind Lacey's absence. Glancing over a newspaper that had been tossed away, he caught sight of that beautiful name. "Lacey, Lacey…what have you done…" He mumbled to himself, quickly reading the article as if his life depended on it. And he sure was glad that he did.

"Lacey Monroe, patricide." He giggled to himself as he read the word. The combination of the girl and such a horrific crime filled him with glee. While he never knew what Lacey's dad was capable of, it was easy enough for Jerome to guess that whatever he'd done was bad enough for such a timid girl to snap and put an end to his violent ways. In fact, Jerome felt proud of her.

If only he could follow in Lacey Monroe's footsteps and put an end to his own suffering.

But in a year's time, Jerome Valeska would do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since their trip to Haly's Circus, Lacey's father, Lawrence Monroe, had been in a particularly irritable mood; not just with her mother, but with Lacey herself. While he had only attacked her severely one time after she was an hour late coming home – even though his method of punishment almost killed his daughter – this sudden dangerous shift in hostility towards her was very unsettling. But what had Lacey done to warrant such behaviour?

Whatever, it didn't matter. Lacey just needed a ride over to the circus; it had been 6 days since she had met Jerome and she found herself actually missing the company.

Deciding to try her luck, Lacey slipped downstairs and, for once, she heard no sobbing or shouting. The house was calm, peaceful even.

Her mother Doreen was busy making dinner while the master of the house sat at the table watching her, while glancing over the newspaper.

"Hey, that smells good." Lacey smiled as she entered the room, having already decided to request the ride over to the circus before it was too late. She couldn't keep putting it off just because of the possibility that her dad would say no; especially if Jerome would be leaving town soon. "I was wondering…" She started, taking a seat at the table across from her father in an attempt to catch his attention. "Why don't we all go to the circus tonight?"

"Why on earth would we go back there, Lacey?" Lawrence asked, barely raising his eyes from the paper in his lap.

"I dunno, I thought it'd be nice. I really liked it there, it'll be fun."

For a second, Doreen caught Lacey's eye as if to warn her to stop talking, then she continued to bend over the stove as if it was the only way to keep herself preoccupied.

"Dad, can we go?" Lacey asked again in case her father hadn't heard the request.

"The last time we went, you disappeared Lacey." Was the stern reply. "And I know you'll do the same again."

"I won't, I promise." Lacey crossed her fingers behind her back; of course she'd run away again if it meant seeing Jerome. And even if doing so resulted in a beating.

"Lacey…" Lawrence spoke in a grave tone – which was never a good sign. "I'm aware of why you want to return to that cesspit."

"What do you mean?" Lacey tensed up as she felt her father's strong glare on her.

"You were with a freak, weren't you? You're desperate to go back so the two of you can fornicate in one of the trailers again, aren't you?"

Lawrence's words stunned Lacey. Although most of what he was saying wasn't true, she was too curious as to how he knew of Jerome.

"Answer me, Lacey!" He stood up and moved around the table to stand over her.

"Jerome isn't a freak." She whispered, shrinking into the chair for fear of feeling her father's rage. "He's my friend. We…we just talked and…"

"So there is a reason why you left my side. I was hoping there was another explanation for your lurking near those trailers." Lawrence furrowed his brow and shifted his jaw, as if thinking of how to approach the situation. His daughter couldn't be seen affiliating with any of those people: with any people he hadn't pre-approved of. "This is a problem."

"Why is it?" Lacey asked, deciding that she as already in deep enough.

"Because you deliberately disobeyed me!" He grabbed his daughter's arm and pulled her harshly to her feet, his grip only tightening. "Sneaking off to meet people not worthy of even cleaning your shoes. A circus freak of all people! Can you believe this, Doreen?"

Doreen glanced over quickly, shook her head, and then returned her attention to dinner. Understandably, she didn't want to get involved, even if she loved her daughter.

"Mom ought to believe it. She actually married a freak." Lacey spat, struggling against her dad's strong grasp. Although she wished she could've taken that back as soon as the statement had slipped from her lips.

With that, Lawrence swung his fist into Lacey's face, knocking her into the table.

"Lawrence, stop! Please…she…she didn't mean it…" Doreen begged, unable to do anything but look on as her husband began shouting in Lacey's face, even threatening her.

It was then that something inside Lacey snapped. Something deep down told her to stand up for herself and for her mother. Gritting her teeth she pushed Lawrence backwards and straightened up. "I meant every word. You're a brute! A poor excuse for a man who gets a kick out of beating women! You've already sucked the life out of mom but I won't let you do the same to me!" She slapped him once, hard, but not hard enough.

Doreen screamed as Lawrence threw Lacey against the kitchen counter; she hit her head but managed to stumble to her feet quickly enough, despite the bleeding.

"What're you going to do?! You both need me! Without me, you're nothing!" Lawrence shouted, grabbing Lacey's head tightly with one hand; again he slammed her face against the cupboard. "I ought to teach you some manners, bitch! Maybe I wasn't clear enough the first time!"

Panicking, Lacey grabbed the knife from the counter and held it out in front of her. "Get out!" She ordered, her grip tightening as she stepped towards her father. "Get out and never come back!"

"Lacey, you wouldn't dare. You're a coward just like—"

Lawrence didn't get the chance to finish. In a moment of madness, Lacey had lost herself and charged forward; plunging the knife into her father's chest over and over, eventually finding herself breathless after the 17th time. Her mother's hysterical screams brought her back down to earth. Lacey dropped the knife and straightened up, looking down in mortification upon the sight she'd created.

Then she remembered Jerome's words: a smile would look much nicer. So that's what she did: she smiled.

Her father was dead. Lacey couldn't help but laugh herself to tears as she looked down at the blood on the floor, on her knife. On her hands.

She was free at last.

That was, until she was thrown into Arkham Asylum on charges of patricide.

~~~

Of course Lawrence Monroe's murder was widely publicised; he was part of an elite social group, being a highly successful business tycoon, and the people in Gotham got a kick out of the misery of rich people. Especially in such scandalous situations as theirs.

Doreen Monroe could no longer leave her home without having a camera or microphone shoved in her face – her daughter had killed her husband – it was definitely a story that people were eager to hear her take on. Since Lacey's admittance to Arkham, she hadn't heard from her daughter; it had been deemed best to avoid all contact while the press were still hungry for news – and possibly long after they had grown tired.

However, when Lacey's therapist requested a meeting a month later, Doreen had no choice but to face the ugly truth of what had happened.

"Mrs Monroe, thank you for coming down here today." A tall woman dressed in a smart brown suit held out her hand to shake. "I'm Lacey's therapist, Tania Roberts."

"It's good to meet you." Doreen replied, taking a seat on the leather sofa. "What's this about?"

"Your daughter, of course." Tania began, taking out Lacey's file and placing it on the coffee table. "As you know I've been examining her for weeks and she's talked so much about you. I figured it would be good for her to see you."

"I told the head office when we brought Lacey here that I wanted nothing to do with her." She glanced over the file and at Lacey's mugshot on the front. That girl was the very same one who brutally stabbed her husband by the kitchen table but she wasn't her daughter. This dark-eyed teenager wasn't the girl she raised.

"Mrs Monroe, with all due respect, Lacey is still your daughter." Tania lowered her voice. "Lacey's illness couldn't have developed in minutes, it seems to have been part of a long process; most likely due to severe ongoing trauma. From what she's told me, it seems that the difficulties at home could be linked to this."

Doreen shook her head. "Lawrence isn't to blame. Whatever Lacey has told you isn't true; you said it yourself, she's sick." She was almost panicked until Tania held up her hand.

"It's alright. All I ask is that you and Lacey sit down together for 5 minutes, it's what she wants." There was a knock on the door. "That'll be her now."

Tania stood up and opened the door to her office, revealing Lacey who stood there with her hair dishevelled and a small smile. "Tania, can we talk in private?" The girl whispered, her eyes wide and full of pleading.

Reluctantly, the therapist nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Doreen sat uncomfortably on the sofa as the room suddenly felt a lot colder.

"Hi mommy." Lacey smiled sweetly as she sat down across from her. "It's nice to see you, are you well? Of course you are…daddy's dead and I'm in here so you've got that big big house all to yourself." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "It must be nice. To finally be at peace."

"I'll never be at peace, Lacey." Doreen whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "Not after what you've done…"

"What I've done? That's almost laughable." Lacey frowned. "If I remember correctly, it was my father that made our lives a living hell and yet I'm the sick one. I'm the one that's being punished…how ironic is that?"

"Because you killed your father…"

"I didn't kill him!" She snapped back, standing up quickly and moving around the room, sauntering the full length while not breaking eye contact with her mother. "I ridded this world of him! I set us both free! Why can't you see that, hm?" The girl turned on her heels and stood over the sofa where Doreen sat, leaning in close with a smirk. "Why do you keep protecting him after everything he's done?"

"Because image is everything, Lacey. Your father was a good man, deep down."

"Oh…so you chose him over me? Throw me under the bus to defend dear old daddy's honour. To defend your own public image; how kind and honourable of you." She rolled her eyes and straightened up. "And here I thought blood was thicker than water."

"It's not like that. People were already talking about you before this…incident."

"Like what? What were people saying about me?"

"Do you remember that summer we spent at the country club?"

"Of course I do, I'm not that kind of crazy…"

"You spent the whole time writing those stupid poems even though me and your father took you there to meet people of your own social standing. We wanted you to find friends but you never spoke to anyone, you just watched them closely."

"That bitch should've never touched my notebook…" Lacey mumbled through gritted teeth. "She had no right to humiliate me like that. What I was doing was normal."

"You were never normal, Lacey. Not then and certainly not now. And this has proven that."

"Normal is overrated, nobody's normal." Lacey insisted, moving back to the other sofa and falling onto it. "Is this because I wasn't a 'proper' girl? Because I was the girl that wore sweatshirts to dinner parties and never said grace? Or is it because I spoke my mind and wouldn't let dad treat me like a doormat?"

Doreen said nothing, instead she avoided Lacey's harsh glare altogether and stood up to leave.

"Just answer me one question, mother." Lacey said as Doreen reached the door. "How easy was it for you to just…abandon me?"

Again, Doreen didn't respond and quickly left the office.

"I'm a human being!" She shouted at the door, giving it a hard kick. "I'll show you who's crazy you stupid bitch!"

Mrs Monroe barely heard her daughter's words; she'd wasted no time in fleeing the entire asylum in the hopes that getting out as fast as she could would make it easier to forget.

And it did. Doreen Monroe didn't pay another visit to Arkham Asylum after that day. Nobody from the outside visited Lacey Monroe again.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jerome was sent to Arkham, he just couldn't stop laughing - the whole situation was just like one big joke to him.

Besides, this arrangement meant that he'd be closer to Lacey again. Or at least, that was the plan.

Jerome had spent a week in the asylum and yet, he hadn't caught a glimpse of Lacey in the breakfast hall, in the community room…he hadn't even heard anyone say her name. Clearly, Lacey had already been let out. What a shame: Jerome had so looked forward to coming face to face with the girl he hadn't stopped thinking about for over a year.

However, one night he heard screaming down the corridor and ran to the small glass window, eager to see what the commotion was about.

Peeking out into the dimly-lit corridor, Jerome caught a glimpse of three shadows; two guards and a smaller figure who appeared to be being dragged down the halls despite her resistance.

"I'm not sick!" He heard the inmate shout, attempting to kick a guard in protest. "I'm not!"

The cell across from Jerome's was opened and the girl was thrown inside the large metal doors slamming behind her.

"I'm not fucking crazy!" She screamed, banging on the door. "You're all crazy! These people are mad, not me! I'm not!"

While Jerome couldn't have been certain, he had a feeling that this girl was Lacey; this inmate had clearly just returned from a holiday in solitary confinement, meaning that their paths couldn't have crossed before. Then she was convinced of her innocence. Her sanity. It was a cute display, he had to admit. Although Lacey had never seemed crazy to him when they had first met but now she seemed highly unstable. What had happened that had caused her to end up in a place like Arkham?

Well, that depended on if the girl was actually Lacey.

Understandably, Jerome's curiosity kept him awake that night. That, and the sound of banging from the room across the hallway. Whoever this girl was, she didn't grow tired of kicking the door – eventually stopping in the early hours of the morning after a guard visited the disturbed inmate with a needle to calm her down.

When the guards opened up the cells for breakfast, Jerome remained alert for the mystery girl; however she was a no-show for breakfast. Jerome had even saved her a seat.

"She came back last night, you know." Arnold Dobkins mumbled, a hint of excitement to his voice.

"But how long will she last this time?" Richard Sionis muttered casually, not looking up from the book he was reading.

Their words caught Jerome's attention and he strolled over to their table and took a seat. "Who is she? The girl they brought in last night?" He asked eagerly, his hands gripping the back of the chair as if he was about to learn the universe's secrets.

"Lacey Monroe. She went to solitary last month for stabbing a guard." Sionis explained briefly.

"It was her 5th visit to solitary." An inmate by the name of Aaron Helzinger added with a somewhat admirable tone. "And that guard was the second one she's attacked."

Jerome smirked at that. Perhaps Lacey was truly unhinged after all; it made her all the more interesting to know how far she'd come from the timid girl hiding in the backlot of the circus.

Suddenly, the room fell silent as a small dark-haired girl appeared in the doorway. With a wounded disposition, she shuffled into the room, glancing over every stunned face that stared at her as if to remember them – or to get them to remember her. They watched as she moved to the back of the room, her face creased slightly with every step and Jerome was certain that he wasn't the only one to notice the bruising under Lacey's eye.

He couldn't help but watch in astonishment; when he met her last summer she was nothing more than a cowering little girl, now she was practically an asylum celebrity. There was something dignified about the way Lacey moved across the room. Even when one of the larger inmates began heckling her, Lacey was calm and practically despondent until she reached a table and sat down on her own in the corner of the room.

But, to his disappointment, that was it.

Jerome had expected Lacey to stand on the table and make a huge speech but she did nothing of the sort. A lot of the inmates actually seemed surprised by this. The way Lacey returned was reserved and respectable, but in Arkham such a reappearance was boring since they had all been deemed insane.

"Maybe solitary has taken its toll on her." Sionis muttered, still reading his book. "What a shame." It was evident that he actually had little interest in the matter; Lacey was just interesting, a source of entertainment.

"Yeah, last time she came back and tried to start a riot." Robert Greenwood laughed at the memory, still watching Lacey with a keen eye – just in case something did happen. He wasn't the only one expecting more of an entrance from the girl. Evidently, this kind of passive behaviour wasn't typical of her.

As he watched Lacey take a seat away from everyone else, Jerome felt disheartened at what she had become. He expected her to be a little more…lively. Especially after her display in the middle of the night. The way she sat hunched over a book just didn't make her seem dangerous, she didn't look like the kind of person to brutally murder her father.

For once, Jerome didn't find this joke funny. She wasn't even smiling now.

Whistling a tune, Jerome stood up and wandered over to the table where Lacey was sat, her head down. "Hiya gorgeous."

Lacey didn't look up; instead she shifted in her seat so that her back was to Jerome.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jerome jumped onto the seat across the table from her. "C'mon, smile for me. It'd look much nicer."

Lifting her head slowly, Lacey's dark and bruised eyes met Jerome's wide ones as a hint of recognition flickered across them. Jerome wasn't sure what he'd said to get a reaction but that very line caught Lacey's attention.

"Lacey, Lacey...what's wrong?" Jerome asked, almost feeling sorry for her.

She didn't say a word. Instead, Lacey just stared at him as if she was in deep thought – almost mirroring her behaviour when they first met the year before. She was so small and damaged; why hadn't Jerome realised that before?

"I didn't think I'd see you again." Lacey mumbled, watching Jerome closely as if she couldn't believe he was actually sat in front of her. A part of her didn't believe what she was seeing. "The line between reality and illusion sometimes gets a bit blurred in here…I…you are real, aren't you?"

Jerome laughed, relieved to know that Lacey remembered him. "Yes! Yes of course, it's me."

"It's good to see you." She said in a monotone voice, her face still expressionless. "Sorry, I'd be more enthusiastic if I wasn't on these drugs. Apparently I need to calm down…"

Instead of nodding politely, Jerome smirked. He just couldn't help it: Lacey had amused him that day at the circus and she was still so fascinating to him.

"So, they think you're crazy too?" She asked like it was a trivial question, furrowing her brow.

"Oh, you know…" Jerome rested his arm on the table. "Mom kept pushing me. I had no choice, she just kept pushing and nagging and I had to stop her." He smiled and tilted his head to the side, curious about Lacey's own crime. "So gorgeous, I heard about your dad. I'm sure that was liberating."

"You should tell that to my mother." Lacey muttered.

"Oh? I thought you said-"

"She lied." Lacey snapped, closing her book quickly. "My lovely mother refused all allegations against him. It was easier for me to take the blame instead of calling wonderful Mr. Lawrence Monroe out as a brute. It was more convenient for the family for me to be insane."

Jerome leaned forward in his chair, trying to get as close to Lacey as possible. "Pardon my asking but you were a lot…livelier last night."

"Oh, you were expecting a show too?" Lacey couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, amused that the other inmates had their own expectations of her. "I already told you. If you don't follow the rules in here, you get punished. If you don't sleep when they want you to, you get heavily sedated..." She gestured towards her swollen eye. "And a warning."

"The guards did that to you?" He was gradually becoming tense and the girl across the table knew it.

Lacey let out a light chuckle and it was the most exquisite sound Jerome had ever heard. "You haven't been in here long, have you?" She leaned forward, her voice low as she glanced around the room. "The guards don't care. They come in, watch over us for a few hours, then leave with a hefty paycheque. And if a few inmates need to be put back in place, no punishment is off limits. That's why I ended up in solitary. That guard touched me."

Jerome's eyes widened. "So you stabbed him?"

"You sound surprised." Lacey shrugged, a slight smile creeping across her lips. "My hand might have slipped."

The redhead noticed Lacey's small change in mood and grinned. "You're smiling. Good. I like it."

"You haven't stopped smiling." Lacey replied, finding her own amusement in Jerome's quirky mannerisms. "That was one thing I didn't forget about you, you know. Your smile is almost infectious."

Jerome laughed, "you are such a funny little thing, Lacey."

"Funny, hm?" Lacey raised an eyebrow. "That sounds better than sick, crazy or insane."

"Oh, you're not crazy. Neither am I."

"But if someone tells you that you're sick enough times, you're bound to believe it." She looked around the room, at every inmate who sat either in deep conversation with those around them, or with themselves. "Nobody's normal but that doesn't make us insane."

Jerome found Lacey's words surprisingly wise and he just couldn't stop thinking about them, about her, for the remainder of the day. Even in the darkness as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Jerome couldn't get Lacey out of his head. But why?

While she had said that his laughter was infectious, there was something almost contagious about her own personality. Jerome couldn't quite put his finger on it but there was something there, something unique about Lacey – besides the fact that she'd murdered her father and been declared criminally insane. It was as if, like him, she had potential. Wasted potential.

But now she seemed so…placid. Even in a place full of loons she stood out; perhaps Sionis had been right about solitary, maybe the guards really had scared her straight. They had beaten the charm right out of her.

But Jerome was going to get it back. He was going to uncover the real Lacey in time, every quirk and every flaw. Without even realising, she was going to place all her faith in Jerome. And more importantly, she was going to smile for him.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jerome saw Lacey enter the community room the next day, he eagerly waved to her, having saved her a seat next to him.

However Lacey completely blanked this offer and sauntered across the room, joining the likes of Sionis, Helzinger, Greenwood and Dobkins at their usual table.

All Jerome could do was watch with a frown as Lacey sat talking amongst the other men, smiling at their stories. After a while, the girl did indeed feel Jerome's eyes on her and gave him a quick wink before turning back to the group of men and continuing their conversation. She was up to something, but what was it?

Still, at least she seemed livelier than yesterday.

Simply by watching Lacey's interactions with the other inmates, Jerome could gather a few things about her relationship with them. There was a lot of respect there, that much was evident.

After being thrown into Arkham, Jerome had quickly noted that Aaron Helzinger was a man of few words; however he seemed to partake in some of the discussion when Lacey was there – perhaps seeing her as a pillar of support. Even Sionis, who was clearly a shot-caller in the asylum, seemed to appreciate Lacey's company to some extent.

Eventually, Lacey drifted over to where Jerome was sat on his own, begrudgingly watching from afar. She smirked as she sat down before noticing his frown. "What?"

"I hoped you'd come over here sooner. Aren't we friends?" Jerome tilted his head to the side in mock curiosity.

"Of course we are." Lacey nodded. "I just had to sort a few things out that I didn't have the strength or the patience to do yesterday. I was away for a while, I wouldn't want rumours being spread and deals being done behind my back." She smiled and pulled out a small bag of what appeared to be painkillers. "Besides, being friends with Sionis has its benefits. Can you believe it, they pump us full of drugs yet none of them are ones we really need."

Jerome's facial expression was suddenly one of deep concern. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Not really, but I'll get over it. It's not like I have a choice, right?" A small cynical laugh came from Lacey, similar to the one she had exhibited for him the day before.

Again, it knocked Jerome back and he found himself chuckling too. But it was short-lived as he soon remembered the severity of their conversation. "Which guard hit you?"

"What does it matter?" Lacey's tongue rolled around in her mouth, pushing against her cheek as she appeared to be deep in thought. "I plan to handle it anyway."

Jerome felt a cold shiver run along his skin. He knew Lacey had a dark side – who in Arkham didn't? – but this darkness was mixed with something else…something intriguing. "What should we do?"

"There is no we, Jerome. Not in here." Despite her words, the corners of Lacey's mouth pricked upwards. "But thanks. If I plan another riot you'll be the first to know." She quickly opened the bag of painkillers and slipped a couple under her tongue and swallowed with ease, flashing Jerome a smile afterwards before standing up. "I'll see you later, be good."

Before Jerome could question where Lacey planned to disappear to in such a confined environment, she had sauntered out of the room; although this was after she turned around to wink in Jerome's direction.

He watched her leave with wide eyes; fascinated by the way her personality was constantly changing. Frankly, Jerome was just happy to see Lacey smile after her withdrawn behaviour the day before. He was happy to see her.

At first Jerome had simply assumed his interest in Lacey to have been a result of a lack of female attention. No girl had ever given him so much as a second glance, let alone his own mother, so Lacey's 10 minute interaction with him had been a pleasant occurrence. Then she had hugged him: the shy girl from the circus had touched him. That one moment of close contact had almost made up for the non-existent relationship between him and his mother, the woman who should have loved him unconditionally. But now, one year later in a place as bleak and depressing as Arkham Asylum, Jerome still felt that same warmth every time Lacey talked to him. Every time she laughed.

She was definitely pretty, with her dark hair and deep brown eyes that could almost see right through him. These feelings were frustrating to Jerome but he was also eager to see how things would work out – how this new game would play out. What would the punchline be?

How was he supposed to talk to her? So far they'd only discussed their crimes and the situation in Arkham but Jerome hardly knew anything about Lacey besides her darkest quality. He knew little to nothing about Lacey herself. Lacey, the girl from the circus.

What was her favourite colour? What were her favourite songs? Did she have any hobbies or interests? Had she had any previous lovers?

That was what Jerome wanted to be, wasn't it, Lacey's lover? Arkham was hardly a romance-inspiring environment but it was evident that the more friends you had, the more connections, the easier life in the asylum would be. The more entertaining a life bound within four cold walls would be.

~~~

"So Lacey, how are you?" Dr. Tania Roberts smiled as the girl was escorted into the room.

"I just spent another month in solitary, surrounded by white padded walls. I'm hardly feeling great."

"What about the new drugs I prescribed for you?" She enquired, placing her glasses on the edge of her nose. "Would you say that they are helping?" The psychiatrist tapped her pen on her notepad.

Lacey frowned. "No. I don't need any more anti-psychotics. I'm not sick."

"I know you're not, Lacey. But you'll only get better if you allow us to help you."

"That's funny." Lacey laughed sceptically and leaned back onto the sofa. "Maybe it's just me but I don't think dragging me back and forth from solitary is helpful. Of course, let's not forget the fact that the majority of the guards here hate me and take every opportunity they can to take a swing me. And I'm not the only inmate they kick around."

"I believed we addressed this issue the last time we spoke, Lacey." Dr. Roberts' voice was calm, as if her mentality would transfer over to her patient – cleansing her mind of any irregularities. "The guards are merely doing their job. You can't attack them for doing that."

Lacey widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Oh, it all makes sense now. Forgive me for being so crazy…I must be imagining the agonising pain running through my body. Are you seeing this black eye, Tania? Or did I imagine that too?"

"Lacey, it's only natural that you seek someone to blame but—"

"Don't do that. Don't say this is all in my head because it's not." Lacey shot up from her seat, her hands shaking. "I'm not crazy, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm as sane as any other girl my age."

"There's a reason you're here, Lacey. I'm sorry but, from the behaviour you've exhibited over the last year, it's evident that you're beyond help. The only way we can support you is to keep you under our observation."

If looks could kill, Tania Roberts would have been laying in a pool of blood right at that moment.

"Is that psychiatrist talk for you're going to send me for more electroconvulsive therapy? You're going to see how many more volts my mind can take before I go numb for good, aren't you. Then when I become brain dead, you can just tell everyone that I've finally found peace." Lacey laughed out loud, taking a leaf from Jerome's book. It wasn't anything like his infectious chuckle but it was still enough to unnerve the therapist. "That is pretty funny."

"Please sit down. This is no laughing matter, Lacey." Dr. Roberts said suddenly, making sure to watch her patient's movements carefully. Lacey had a tendency to behave very unpredictably; she could easily go from being calm to screaming down the hallway. "And yes, another round of ECT is an option which we are considering. Which your erratic behaviour is causing us to consider."

"I'm erratic because I'm in here. Don't you see that?!" Lacey shuffled to the back of the room, staring at the therapists' desk that had been lined with office supplies and sat herself on the edge, swinging her legs. "If I was out in the real world I'd be much saner."

"Lacey, we both know that wouldn't be the case." The therapist tried to beckon Lacey back over but she refused. "Your mother told me about the incident at the country club. Even you have to admit that that wasn't the behaviour of a healthy teenage girl."

"I was merely recording my observations, isn't that what you're doing right now?"

"Lacey…please come here."

"I was recording my observations. I was trying to figure out why rich people were so adored when they did so many terrible things." Lacey titled her head to the side, deciding to further test her psychiatrist. "Which is actually the opposite of what you're doing. You're watching me, someone who is so despised by everyone including her own mother, and you're trying to figure out why I'm so hated when all I did was rid this world of a terrible bully of a man."

"If you don't want to cooperate now, we can always reschedule this appointment."

"Good thinking, Tania. Don't go getting any more ideas though." Lacey strolled towards the door, but she stopped quickly. "The more I think about it, maybe I am a little crazy. But it wasn't until I came here, in this room with you, telling me that I'm not normal. It's easy enough to doubt my own sanity when nobody believes me." She smiled as she headed out of the room, "but he does. He understands me."

~~~

"So gorgeous, where did you run off to?" Jerome's smile widened as he jumped onto the seat besides Lacey, crossing his legs and staring at her with an almost childlike wonder. "Did your mom come to visit?"

Lacey would've burst out laughing at that if she hadn't been to see someone who was turning out to be so much worse. "I had to chat with my psychiatrist."

"Psychiatrist?" Jerome smirked, immediately intrigued. "What's the diagnosis?"

Before Lacey could speak, Jerome held up a hand up to stop her and straightened his back. "Okay, pretend I'm your psychiatrist." He leaned in close, eyeing Lacey up and down. "Well, you don't appear to be showing any physical symptoms of madness…you're insanely gorgeous but that's the only kind of insane you are."

She smiled at Jerome's bold remark. "Where are you going with this?"

"Hang on, I need to completely assess your health." Jerome shushed Lacey with a finger to her lips, before taking her by the wrist to test for a pulse; however he noticed something hidden under the sleeve of her dress. "Are you hiding something?" Jerome felt up her arm in an attempt to work out what was tucked away in the folds of her sleeve.

Lacey rolled her eyes as Jerome continued to pat her arm until he snatched his hands back in surprise, a grin of admiration spreading from ear to ear. "Well, well, Lacey you never stop amazing me. Who were you planning to use that on?"

"Whichever guard lays a hand on me first."

"A letter opener…what a creative weapon." He continued to grin at Lacey's resourcefulness. "But what if your shrink goes to read a letter and realises that such a sharp item is missing?"

"What can they do to me that they haven't done already? They can drag me away but I'll go kicking and screaming, believe me."

"You're so bad, Lacey Monroe." Jerome found himself laughing once again as he sat inches from the young brunette. "I like that."


	5. Chapter 5

"Tell me about your father, Jerome." Lacey enquired one afternoon as the pair were lounging around the community room, with her head resting lazily on his shoulder.

She had only heard about Jerome's father through the odd jokes and insults aimed at him over the past few weeks and, while they hadn't revealed much, Lacey's understanding of him was that he was an old blind man who had been the fortune teller at Haly's circus.

"Does he come to visit you?" She asked, looking up at Jerome's face that had now contorted into a bitter expression. "You okay?"

"He's a pathetic old creep who my mom clearly boned out of pity." Jerome replied bluntly, and quickly – barely breathing between words. "He's not my dad. He never cared or tried to help me. Even when my mom and her 'friends' started beating me. I didn't even know he was my dad until right before I was hauled in here…that's a good joke, right?"

"You should kill him too." Lacey said suddenly, straightening up and looking Jerome dead in the eye. "When you get out of here, you should show him that you don't need him. Show him how wrong his was to dismiss you." She smiled. "That's what I'd do if I ever got out of here. I'd go after my mom and make her regret ever giving birth to me."

Jerome's smile quickly returned as Lacey's bitter words poured out like poison, deadly yet so intriguing. Her mind was so twisted and he revelled in it. "You know, every time you say something like that I get so turned on."

"Good." She grinned for a split second, bearing her teeth as she leaned in close to Jerome.

They'd been locked up together for a few weeks now yet Jerome had never seen Lacey smile like that before. It was bewitching. "Do that again."

"Do what again?" Lacey asked, clearly unaware of the effect she could have on the young man beside her.

Jerome laughed, "do that again. Smile like that. Smile for me."

Reluctantly, Lacey allowed her face to crease upwards once again as she showed Jerome the most wicked of smiles. It was perfect.

"Kiss me." Jerome demanded suddenly, pulling Lacey closer by her shoulders so that she was inches from his face.

Lacey glanced over Jerome's face and soon understood that he was genuinely serious in his request. Usually, Jerome would counter such statements with a smile or a loud laugh but nothing of the sort followed. For once, he wasn't joking around.

"As you wish, Mr. Valeska." She smiled and wrapped her arms around Jerome's neck as she kissed him. It was sweet at first but the redhead soon grew bored and wanted more; he grabbed the back of Lacey's head and drew her in closer, drawing her deeper into his madness.

When they eventually broke apart after a guard banged his baton against the bars, Lacey was left smiling and Jerome, he was speechless. "That was…pleasant."

Nobody had ever given Jerome such affection and to find a connection with a girl like Lacey was more than he could ever have imagined. She was sweet and pretty but also wicked and sadistic, as he had become. Lacey understood Jerome. Jerome understood Lacey. They were the perfect pair. Perfectly insane together.

"Can I tell you something?" Lacey asked, shifting her body so that her back was pressed to Jerome's chest.

"Yes, anything. Please do." Jerome immediately responded, wrapping his arms around Lacey protectively, eager to hear what she had to say.

"A few years ago, my family spent the summer at a country club just outside of Gotham. It was a way for my parents to mingle with some of the country's most elite families, and they thought it'd be a good opportunity to make friends. Or a boy with enough money for our two families to merge and become one superior empire." She rolled her eyes. "I didn't talk to anyone the whole time we were there. I knew what they were up to; my dad loved money and power and having me around hindered that. Until he realised that he could use my 'charm' to attract interested parents with sons of equal social standing, as he would have put it." She mimicked her father's snooty-sounding voice then laughed cynically. "Instead, I spent my time writing down all my findings in a journal. I wanted to find out exactly why the public adored these cruel people and how they'd become so wealthy when all they seemed to do was gossip and laugh at others' misfortunes."

"Did you find out why?" Jerome asked, his attention fully engrossed in Lacey's story.

She shrugged, as if the matter was no insignificant in her mind. "Not really. Some bitch took my notebook and realised what I was doing. Her reaction was unpleasant; she began shouting and threatened to expose me to the whole 'community' at the ball later that evening. My response outdid hers. I guess you could say that that was the first warning sign to my parents."

"You attacked her?"

"I tried to drown her in the fountain." Lacey appeared sad for a brief second, then she regained her composure. "At the time I felt awful. I didn't know what came over me but now…" Her serious eyes stared straight through Jerome, as if her thoughts were trailing away. "I wish I'd have held her head under for just a little longer. 10 more seconds would have done it."

Jerome was mesmerised. Not only had he found a beautiful girl in such a dismal place, he had found one as charmingly insane as he! Maybe even more so.

"We'd have so much fun if we were out there." Jerome insisted with a grin. "Can you imagine all the fun we would have?!"

"Drowning bitches and chopping up old guys like your dad?" Lacey reiterated the details of their conversation with a raised eyebrow. "Sure if we ever get out of here, that's what we'll do."

"When." Jerome corrected her. "When we get outta here, Gorgeous."

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"You got a set of keys up your sleeve as well as that letter opener?" Jerome inquired, just in case.

"Of course not." Lacey chewed on her thumb for a moment, clearly thinking hard about the prospect of an escape. "I'll think of something though."

"I'm sure you will." Jerome placed a firm kiss on her cheek. "In the meantime, we'll have to find our own fun in here."

~~~

As all the patients filed into their rooms for the night, Dr. Tania Roberts sat at her desk reading through Lacey Monroe's file. While she had always demonstrated such outspoken behaviour to all procedures in the asylum, Dr. Roberts had noticed a gradual increase in her desire to disobey authority, to always fight against every attempt to help her. Before she would have struggled but eventually complied, but now she was different somehow. Perhaps even more crazy than before.

What could have caused that change? The psychiatrist thought to herself as she read through medical and treatment records, looking for any change in conduct that could have provoked such wildly disobedient and off-the-wall behaviour during their sessions. There were no evident alterations to her routine or dosage whatsoever. The explanation for her stronger resistance and confidence had to have come from an external source. Something – or someone – in the asylum.

Dr. Roberts then recalled her first session with Lacey a few weeks ago, following the girl's return from solitary. She had been surer than ever of her sanity and, before storming out, had said that he understood her. Initially, the psychiatrist hadn't dwelled too much on this; Lacey was sick and had just returned from a month in isolated so had probably created an imaginary entity to discuss matters with. But maybe that wasn't the case at all.

The only thing to do was to keep a close eye on Lacey when she was out of the office. Who did she talk to in the community room and what was she doing with her 'free' time? Hopefully some closer observation would shine a light on who or what had caused this apparent step backwards in Lacey's progression.

~~~

Lacey and Jerome decided to head to their rooms along with the others; should they plan their period of mischief, it would be best to simply conform for the time being. To not draw any attention to themselves seemed like the best thing to do.

"Goodnight Jerome." Lacey threw a dark-eyed wink his way before she turned on her heels and began to head into her room. However Jerome wasn't going to let her go that easily.

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss, Gorgeous?" He called after her, bearing a wicked grin when Lacey glanced his way. "C'mon, Lacey…"

When Jerome said her name in that mischievous manner, Lacey couldn't help but pace back over to him, grab Jerome's face in her hands and pull him in for a kiss. Unlike their first kiss earlier that day, this one was instantly fervent; with Lacey biting Jerome's lip as his hands slipped around her waist.

For just a moment, Lacey felt the walls of Arkham fall down – they were free for just a second or two. Perhaps it was wishful thinking but the two of them knew right there that what they had was something unique that would carry out into the real world…when they got out, as Jerome had so confidently insisted.

Jerome found himself laughing as they broke apart, causing Lacey to do the same. They were probably crazy to think that whatever was going on between them would develop well under the circumstances but at least they were smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

The days stayed the same with each passing hour; Lacey would join Jerome for breakfast, rest for a few hours in her room before spending the afternoon by his side in the community room. This would be followed by her evening session with Dr. Roberts. Lacey enjoyed this stability though – it was something which her life outside had never given her. But with Jerome, everything was constant.

While Arkham didn't exactly inspire romance, Jerome and Lacey had been able to slip away on numerous occasions to become intimate. If there was one thing they'd learned, it was that Arkham wasn't big on security; hence why it was easy enough for the couple to sneak off in private. However, even with others around, that didn't stop their chemistry by any means.

On this particular day, Jerome and Lacey were sat with Sionis, Greenwood, Dobkins and Helzinger who had become their new 'friends.' The 6 of them had formed a rather tight alliance but Jerome disliked the idea of sharing Lacey with the other members of their clique. In fact, Jerome often felt jealous and made sure to assert his role as Lacey's partner whenever he could. He hated the way Dobkins tried to flirt with her, the way Sionis tried to brag about his life of luxury to attract her attention – and how Greenwood often stared hungrily at Lacey as if she was his next meal.

Jerome's hand glided down to Lacey's thigh, holding her there as Sionis went on talking about the splendours of his outside life. Although Lacey was used to this kind of dominating behaviour from Jerome, he was always able to catch her off guard with his sudden urges. Of course it didn't take long for Jerome to want more and the two of them snuck away for some time together alone together against a wall.

The other inmates had definitely realised that something was going on between the two teenagers, it wasn't difficult for someone inside the bars to pick up on the fact that they had chemistry what with the way they would always sit close and start making out down the corridors. Jerome and Lacey didn't care about them though – so long as nobody working at the asylum found out, everything would be fine.

"I love you…" Lacey admitted accidentally as she and Jerome were heading back from their brief rendezvous. Her face went pink with embarrassment as she confessed such deep emotion to her fellow inmate. They both stared wide-eyed at one another; neither of them expecting such a confession to escape Lacey's lips.

Jerome laughed at first; believing Lacey to be joking with him, pulling a cruel prank. However, when she didn't laugh with him, Jerome realised that Lacey was truly serious. "I love you too, gorgeous."

"Good, you had me worried for a second there." Lacey smiled and kissed his cheek. "C'mon. We don't want to miss the story of Sionis' yacht or whatever."

Jerome smirked and followed Lacey down the hall; comprehending what he and Lacey had just admitted to one another. They were in love. It wasn't just a companionship anymore, someone to kiss and fuck on the odd occasion, Jerome was crazy for her.

However, Dr. Roberts had witnessed their exchange. She had watched Lacey profess her love for one of Arkham's craziest inmates, and he had responded exactly the same. The psychiatrist was concerned to say the least, she wanted Lacey to recover – she needed the teenager to regain her sanity. But if she was to be affiliated with such an unstable boy, Lacey would never get better.

~~~

Of course what Dr. Roberts had seen was the first topic up for discussion during Lacey's session with her later that day.

"You're aware of Arkham's inmate policy, aren't you Lacey?"

"I'm aware of it, yes." Lacey rolled her eyes. "Although it's not like anyone actually pays attention to some stupid rules, is it Doc?"

Dr. Roberts frowned at Lacey's new nickname for her – one that Jerome himself had insisted Lacey start using on her psychiatrist. "Do you know what could happen if our rules were breached by any inmate? They'd get transferred away from here. Either that or we'd have no choice but to resort to…extreme methods of treatment."

Lacey didn't want to give the game away but she had a feeling that Tania had seen something that she shouldn't have – had she been watching her with Jerome?

"What are you getting at?" Lacey frowned, glancing at the door.

"Would it be correct to assume that you're engaging in a romantic relationship with another inmate?"

The girl laughed, "I don't think that's any business of yours."

"Lacey, you must understand how serious this is." Dr. Roberts hissed, going over to the door and locking it. "Jerome Valeska is—"

"A murderer. Like me." Lacey stated bluntly.

"You have the potential to get better, Lacey. Jerome will never regain his sanity." The psychiatrist attempted to explain; apparently desperate to get her patient to see sense.

"First you tell me I'm mad and that zapping 300 volts through my brain is necessary, now you're saying that I could recover if I just, what, stay away from Jerome?" Lacey shot up from her seat.

"Lacey please just sit down—"

"Why do you care so much about what happens to me, Doc? You're obsessing over making me sane but guess what, I'm never going to stop feeling like this because I lost my mind the day I came here!"

"You remind me so much of her, my sister." Tania admitted quickly, staring at Lacey with sad contemplation.

Lacey frowned and remained on her feet. "Your sister was crazy too?"

"She was about your age when her mental health deteriorated." She ran a hand through her hair, looking desperately at Lacey. "I wasn't able to save her from the darkness, but there's a chance for you, Lacey. You could get better if you just let me help you."

"And they say I'm crazy…" Lacey rolled her eyes, feeling no sympathy for the therapist whatsoever.

Dr. Roberts stood up. "Lacey, I'm going to have to send you for another dosage of electroconvulsive therapy."

"You can't do that! I…I'm not sick!" She shouted, shaking her head furiously. "I could lose all my memories! I could forget everything!"

"Then maybe that's for the best." Tania insisted before unlocking the door. "Perhaps forgetting about your insanity is the only way to cure it, Lacey. I'm sorry but you've given me no choice."

Lacey shoved the psychiatrist out of the way and made for the door. How she had resisted the urge to use the letter opener on Dr. Roberts was beyond her. She didn't know how many more volts her mind would take; the side effects from her last dosage had been difficult to overcome, an increase in this treatment would surely cause further damage.

~~~

When Lacey joined Jerome at their usual table that evening, he instantly knew that something was wrong – and refused to change the subject until he understood why his girl was so rattled.

"I could become a clean slate, a totally different person." Lacey said in a hushed tone as Jerome held her close. "They could send me someplace else. Maybe to a high security prison miles from here."

While Jerome wouldn't have admitted it, all this talk of Lacey disappearing scared him. It made him scared and angry. How could he find someone so perfect for him then be forced to give her up?

"What if I forget about you?" She whispered, leaning into Jerome with a defeated disposition.

"Oh, I wouldn't let you go that easily. You're my girl." Jerome grinned, hoping that she'd do the same. She didn't.

"When will they take you?"

Lacey shrugged. "It depends how quickly Dr. Roberts wants me out of here. She knows about us and it concerns her."

Jerome chuckled, "because I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy." Lacey smiled half-heartedly. "You've got a poor taste in girls but you're not crazy."

"I could say the same about you." Jerome laughed. "I'm the reason your shrink wants your brain zapped."

"Let's stop talking about that." Lacey yawned and closed her eyes, resting against Jerome's chest. "We should just enjoy the time we've got left together."

"Hey, don't be like that. Nothing's gonna happen to you, I promise." He placed a large kiss on her head, caressing her long dark hair with his hand. "I told you, you're my girl."

~~~

As the inmates settled down to either sleep or pace their rooms while sputtering their own insane ramblings, Lacey sat on her bed in the darkness, the pills that Sionis had given her in the palm of her hand. There were enough to ensure that she never had to face a reality without Jerome. Moreover, it was the only way to free her from the hell she was living. The treatment would eventually destroy her psyche, so what difference would it make if she chose her own way out?

She glanced at her door; knowing that Jerome was just across the hall. Would he be one of the first people to know? How would he react? Lacey didn't want to break him further but she couldn't endure her stay at Arkham any longer – especially if she was facing a stint of ECT, to be followed by a potential transfer.

However, before Lacey could take the pills, the guards opened the door; insistent on taking Lacey for the dosage right that very moment, while all the other patients were sleeping.

"I'm not going with you!" She shouted, struggling as one of the guards grabbed her arm. "I'm not crazy, Dr. Roberts is a vindictive bitch! Let go of me!"

Of course the guard didn't let go; instead, using his height and strength to drag Lacey out of her room – where she took the opportunity to reach under the sleeve of her dress and stab the guard in the neck with the letter opener she'd taken.

Jerome wasn't the only inmate to hear the commotion but he was the only one who witnessed what happened next through the small window in his door. And what he saw left him banging and kicking the metal door desperately in a hopeless attempt to get out and help Lacey. She was in serious trouble; outnumbered by the tall and ruthless guards that didn't stop. However, all he could do was watch the whole ordeal, shouting frantically by the end as Lacey was dragged away; her body unresponsive and still after her brutal punishment.

Jerome didn't sleep that night. He didn't know where they'd taken his girl and if she was dead or alive. While the guards exhibiting violence on the inmates was typical behaviour, Jerome had never witnessed them go that far before – likely because Lacey had taken a stab at one of their own. Perhaps she had killed him, so the other guards had thought it necessary to 'dispose' of her in a similar fashion. It was then that Jerome truly realised what Lacey had meant: the guards didn't care at all. Bad things happened to bad people and, within mere seconds, Lacey herself became living proof of that very statement's validity.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning, as the inmates were eating breakfast, the chief guard entered the room and announced to everyone that Lacey had died.

According to the guards, she had viciously retaliated to a transfer attempt and had left them with o other option but to use force against her. No further action would be taken, just that more guards would be present in an attempt to prevent further deaths. The guards had told the inmates what they had done in order to intimidate them; they needed to know how insignificant they were in Arkham and that their deaths just didn't matter. Of course the public would never hear the tale but maybe that was for the best; the incident was to be swept under the rug and it would soon be as if Lacey Monroe never existed.

Jerome broke down upon hearing the news. It was a similar performance to when the police had found his mother, except it wasn't a show this time. Lacey was gone. This was real. Unscripted and so real. Jerome's reaction was real too. Because he truly loved her.

Lacey had been the only person to understand him. She hadn't run scared or belittled him as everyone else he'd ever known had done; she had embraced his darkness while revealing her own twisted personality. They had been perfect together: partners in crime.

He'd laid awake in bed all night, thinking of her, hoping that she would return the next day with her smile and her dark eyes would be full of life. They wouldn't have damaged her mind with the electroconvulsive therapy, nor would they be transferring Lacey to a high-security facility. But instead, Jerome's worst fears had come true. The guards had grown tired of her uncooperative behaviour and had killed her for it. If you didn't conform to society's norm, you were thrown in Arkham. And if you didn't conform to Arkham's rules, then you would be disposed of effectively.

After Lacey's death, Jerome undeniably grew darker, crazier – and yet, he was also more focused. Jerome became fixated with getting out of Arkham; it was what Lacey would've wanted for him, to get out and murder his father, her mother and Dr. Roberts for causing Lacey's demise in the first place. Only then could her death have been avenged.

It didn't take long for Lacey's existence to have been forgotten about; new inmates arrived every day and it was soon as if nobody knew Lacey's name. Nor would they talk about her; whether this was because of simple forgetfulness or due to fear of the guards, Jerome could never be certain. However, he would always make sure to spread the word when he could – what could the guards have done to stop him? The worst that could've happened was presenting him with the same fate as Lacey; which would have only reunited the two star-crossed lovers…

~~~

Shortly after Lacey's death had been announced, Jerome was hauled off to meet with Dr. Roberts. She was clearly eager to talk to Jerome; not just to see how he was dealing with the news, but also to ensure that he had no plans to follow a similar behaviour pattern to Lacey. If Jerome was to resist authority as Lacey had done, she feared that many other inmates would follow suit.

"I'm very sorry about Lacey. I'm aware that you were fond of her." Was all Tania could manage as she carefully watched Jerome's mannerisms from across the room. Frankly, while she had never been his psychiatrist, the boy had always unnerved her due to his instability; however she knew that the threat he posed was much more severe now that Lacey had been taken from him so suddenly. Jerome was unpredictable to say the least, and Tania Roberts was very apprehensive as she sat alone in her office with him.

"Of course you're sorry. It's your fault." Jerome said very matter-of-factly. "You didn't like that she had an ally in here so you tried to take her away."

"Jerome, you and I both know that you shared more than an allegiance." The psychiatrist sternly corrected him. "The consequences could have been a lot worse if those of higher position found out."

"How could anything worse happen? Lacey's dead." Jerome balled his hands into tight fists and clenched his teeth, desperate to get his hands on Dr. Roberts and make her pay for what she'd done. What her interference had caused. Lacey was his and she had tried to come between them – leaving Lacey to be punished. "You were selfish, Doc. I made Lacey smile and you didn't like that; you wanted her to be crazy so you could treat her."

Dr. Roberts frowned as Jerome started ranting, his eyes wide and barely breathing after each sentence. "She was my girl. I would've killed for her. And I will kill for her."

"Jerome, I never planned for this to happen. Lacey chose to resist authority, she didn't want to conform. Nor did she want to get better. Lacey never helped herself but she became worse after your arrival." Dr. Roberts stood up firmly. "If it wasn't for you Jerome, Lacey probably would have gotten better. She would have been treated correctly and discharged from here."

Jerome broke right there; his sanity well and truly went out of the window. Not only had he lost the only person he'd ever had in his life, someone whom he shared an undeniable bond with, but now Jerome had had the blame for her death shifted onto him. It was too much to bear and he saw red. In that moment, Jerome wanted to kill the psychiatrist. He wanted to clasp his hands tightly around her throat and squeeze until her vicious words stopped. Until he heard a snap and a halt of a breath. However, Jerome was quickly dragged out of the room and taken to his room where he was heavily sedated into a deep sleep; calming him for long enough to return Arkham back to order.

Unbeknownst to Jerome and the other inmates - and even Dr. Roberts - there was further disorder behind the scenes that required the immediate attention of the heads of Arkham. It was a truly pressing matter and needed to be kept secret between only those directly involved. Nobody outside of the asylum could find out about their slip-up; especially not the GCPD.

~~~

12 Hours Earlier…

Lacey Monroe woke up in a dark and empty room.

Wincing in pain, she attempted to sit up and further take in her surroundings. Her Arkham uniform had been replaced with a white hospital robe and her long hair cascaded down to her shoulders, sticking out in places. Lacey shuffled across the room, squinting into the darkness as she eventually reached the door, with every inch of her body aching. "Hello?" She called in a raspy voice, scanning the corridor for any shadows. No one was there, only her own breaking voice echoed back.

Oh, that was perfect.

Despite still feeling dizzy and disorientated from the drugs and whatever else had happened to her while she was unconscious, Lacey knew that it was a 'now or never' situation. She needed to find the strength to grab hold of what could have been her one and only chance of freedom.

Quickly slipping out of the room, Lacey ducked into the laundry closet and changed into a white Arkham nurse's outfit before heading down the hallway. Of course, in her state, it took some time for Lacey to become adjusted to her surroundings and the pain that shot through her body every time she moved too vigorously. Clearly, those guards had broken a few ribs. Lacey didn't even want to imagine how battered she must have looked. Still, that didn't stop her from slipping past the two Arkham security guards at the door; either they were too sleep-deprived to notice or they actually were stupid enough to fall for her slight disguise, but they didn't say a word. In fact, they actually said goodbye to her.

It was almost laughable. Lacey wondered how the asylum hadn't had large amounts of breakouts in the past with such shoddy security. A part of her almost wished that she'd have thought of being sent to the Arkham hospital before; that way her time in the asylum would have been much shorter, and less painful. But then Lacey wouldn't have met Jerome.

Of course she wanted to go back; storm the gates and rescue him from enduring the same torture. But then again, Lacey was now free. She'd been forced to bear over a year in hell and she would've been a fool to waste that chance. Besides, breaking Jerome out of there would require a lot of thought – a largescale plan – and in Lacey's current condition, she was amazed that she made it out of the gates without collapsing. Everything hurt and she needed to rest before taking on the role of the heroic saviour.

Lacey couldn't help but wonder how Arkham would get themselves out of that mess. First, their own guards had beaten her almost to death, then she had so easily escaped their hospital. It went without saying that they would have some serious questions to answer. Or maybe an elaborate lie would cover up the truth regarding their negligence. That was always how big businesses and influential figures escaped persecution: they lied through their teeth to disguise the reality of a situation. And Arkham would be no exception. They planned to do everything they could to keep the incident under wraps. Even if it meant erasing Lacey Monroe from existence to hide their error. Besides, she was just a crazy girl, who would miss her?


	8. Chapter 8

Naturally, Lacey spent her first few weeks of freedom lying low. She didn't want to run the risk of getting caught so soon but simply wandering the streets was enough. She was free after all.

Most people would've hated living on the streets of Gotham but honestly, Lacey loved the feeling of the cold air on her skin. She felt safer living in dark alleyways than in Arkham; at least out there nobody knew who she was. Nobody was trying to cure her of an illness she didn't have.

After just a few days, Lacey had gained a variety of new and valuable skills that she was certain would come in handy in her new life of freedom. She was getting better at lying, hiding her darker self under an innocent smile, where she would lure strangers into a false sense of security. Now, Lacey didn't want to kill but she viewed it as a 'greater good' king of situation. Those people had money and they were stupid enough to trust her; in Lacey's mind that made them worthy of facing her blade. Besides, Lacey needed food and clothes and she could hardly go waltzing into stores and cafés in search of a job – somebody was bound to recognise her.

However, Lacey's concerns were almost put to rest for good after, while walking the streets in search of a free meal, she caught sight of a discarded newspaper that had her name in an article. Reading through it, Lacey couldn't help but chuckle to herself. She knew that Arkham were never going to tell the truth; that their guards had attacked Lacey and she had ultimately escaped their hospital due to a lack of security, but she was still stunned by the lie they had told everyone in order to hide the fact that Lacey was alive and hiding somewhere in Gotham.

To cover themselves, the asylum had told the press that Lacey had been killed during a fight with another inmate – to which Lacey couldn't have been more delighted. She was officially dead to the world. She was free to move on at last.

Although Lacey's idea of moving on didn't consist of a name change and a fresh start in another city. Instead, she was free to track down those who had wronged her: starting with her mother, Doreen Monroe. Lacey felt as if a family reunion was in order and couldn't wait to make good on her vow of revenge.

~~~

It was no secret that Jerome wanted out, now more than ever. Lacey was gone and only he could truly avenge her 'death'. Jerome needed to kill all those who hurt her before he could come to terms with the cruel reality: that those of high authority had snatched away his girlfriend. His one chance for happiness. Even if Jerome had known that Arkham had lied about Lacey having died as a result of the attack, he would've still been just as hell-bent on carrying out his revenge against their enemies – maybe even more so.

Jerome was determined to make sure that everyone remembered Lacey, that they remembered what had happened to her. Although nobody liked to talk about the ill-fated teenage girl anymore, Jerome was still unable to forget – nor did he want to. Lacey had been the first thing in his life that had been his. Jerome had never had something of his own before so his relationship with Lacey was truly meaningful and momentous. However, it was said that people liked to move on. Even their own little group were keen to recruit new members. One being the new inmate Barbara Kean, who had particularly attracted Richard Sionis' attention.

In many ways, she reminded Jerome of how Lacey had been. Sitting in Lacey's chair with a disinterested frown on her pretty face; evidently keen to stay away from the other inmates. However, Barbara did lack something…connections.

"A girl needs a good friend in here." Jerome's tone was suddenly serious; somewhat catching Barbara's attention. "See the guards, they don't care. They figure bad things happen to bad people. And they happen all the time." He thought back to Lacey, how the guards themselves had been the ones wielding the weapons. But who was he kidding – Lacey had had friends and not even they could save her. "All the time."

Barbara seemed to care very little for Jerome's advice and turned back to her magazine shortly after. See, that also annoyed Jerome. While Lacey had been exciting and rebellious, Barbara was more of a passive inmate; she didn't seem to want to do or say anything – not even to challenge authority once.

"They killed her, y'know." Jerome said quickly, still staring intensely at the new inmate. "Lacey Monroe, my girl."

"What a pity." Barbara sighed, hardly paying attention.

"They dragged her out of her cell and beat her to a bloody pulp. All I could do was watch as she bled out." Jerome told Barbara through clenched teeth. He still vividly remembered that night and found himself thinking back to the event several times a day. And it often caused him to snap. "They killed her!" Jerome banged his fists on the table. "They took her from me, so don't think for one minute that you're safe in here."

~~~

"What…what are you doing here?" Doreen stood frozen as she went into the living room to find her daughter sitting on the sofa with the TV remote in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other.

"All these TV stations and not a single good show. And they called me a criminal…" Lacey continued to quickly change the channel, sighing as every press of the button presented her with cheesy soap operas or daytime talk shows.

"Lacey, you're dead." Doreen insisted, carefully moving around the sofa to get a proper look at her. Arkham had told her that she'd been killed in a freak riot, and the papers had told a similar story. "You were killed."

"You say that like it's a good thing." Lacey turned off the TV and looked up at her mother, chuckling to herself. "They clearly lied to you. Don't feel bad though, everyone thinks I'm dead."

"What do you want?" Doreen asked, the tone of her voice immediately revealing the sheer fright that Lacey's mother was feeling at that moment. It didn't take long for Doreen to recognise the scars and bruises that had been inflicted on her during the struggle; during the incident where she was 'killed.'

"Oh, it's nice to see you too, mother." Lacey rolled her eyes, actually shocked by her mother's cold behaviour towards her. "How have you been, Lacey? Was your holiday at Arkham nice?" She suddenly threw the wine glass at the wall. "No it fucking wasn't!"

Doreen took a step back, carefully taking out her cell phone.

Lacey stood up, a lopsided smile on her bruised face. "You've had a great time though, haven't you? New job, new husband, new kids." She picked up the framed photograph of Doreen with a man and several kids of a similar age to her. "Three sane stepchildren. I bet you're thrilled."

"Lacey, you didn't—"

"No, I didn't kill them." Lacey snapped back, shifting her jaw to the side. "Yet."

"Lacey listen to me—"

"No! You listen to me." Lacey took out the sharp knife she'd found in the drawers of her mother's bedside table; evidently it had been hidden there in the event of an...emergency. "You were scared that I'd come back, weren't you? I defended you and yet I'm the one they fear. Life can be cruel can't it?"

"I'm calling the police..."

"Mother!" Lacey held her finger up to silence her, while holding the knife tightly in her other hand. "Watch my lips, I am still talking. So put down the phone and take a seat."

Deciding not to challenge her deranged daughter, Doreen set down her cell phone and sat in the armchair furthest away from Lacey.

Lacey smiled as she started to pace the room, eyeing Doreen carefully. "We could've been sipping champagne in Europe now, if you'd have just told the truth. Still, I guess I should thank you. If I hadn't gone to Arkham I wouldn't have finally made friends. That was what you wanted right? For me to have friends like a normal girl? Well I did; they were typically mass murderers…one was a cannibal!" She laughed suddenly, excited to tell Doreen her most thrilling news. "And I had a lover! I don't think you or father would have approved though…he was the very boy I met at the circus! How funny is that? He killed his mom and ended up in Arkham too. Oh my god, you should've seen the way he'd look at me; he wasn't the son of an entrepreneur or the heir to big money but he fucking cared about me."

Doreen glanced quickly towards the clock. "Lacey…the kids will be home soon."

"Oh, I hope you don't mind if I stay and introduce myself."

"Please…Lacey, you can't do this."

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do." Lacey snapped, pointing the knife in Doreen's direction. "You came to visit me once. You missed my 18th birthday; I spent it alone in a straightjacket down in solitary confinement."

"I'm sorry!" Doreen yelled, standing up quickly. "Is that what you want, Lacey? I was a terrible mother to you and I'm sorry!"

Lacey smiled momentarily with that apology, appearing to be satisfied for a few seconds. However, she quickly remembered what she'd been through over the last year or so. She'd been beaten and shocked and pumped full of drugs at Arkham – sorry couldn't change that. And there was no going back for Lacey.

"Just…please come back tomorrow. We can talk about this, we can be a…" Doreen froze, a look of disgust on her pale face. "A real family."

"See, tomorrow isn't an option." Lacey smiled pityingly. "Well, for you anyway."

Doreen started to cry as her daughter pressed the edge of the blade lightly against her throat. "Lacey, you don't have to do this. I'll give you money…you can take the car and…"

"Bribes…bribes…bribes…that's all you people ever think about…" Lacey laughed, her finger twitching as she felt her urge to do the unimaginable rising. "Money won't bring my childhood back. It won't bring my sanity back."

~~~

Glaring down at her mother's lifeless body in the armchair, Lacey leaned forward to kiss her forehead. There was blood everywhere of course, but Lacey didn't even flinch when it stained her gloved hands and clothes. In fact, the awful smell made her smile. Lacey just felt so…liberated.

"I'm sorry mother, but you made me do this. You and dad turned me into this." She whispered, filling the eerie silence with a snigger.

Then a thought occurred to Lacey. Sure, it was twisted and perhaps a little foolish should she want to remain dead in the eyes of every Gothamite - but Lacey just couldn't bear the thought of someone else potentially taking the credit for her handiwork. Besides, planting the mere possibility that she was really alive into the heads of the people would've caused such a stir; leading some to question the reliability of Arkham Asylum and the corrupt workers within it. Lacey didn't want the truth of her survival to be public news, she just wanted to be part of a huge conspiracy theory - to leave people wondering if the teenager was avenging herself from beyond the grave. So without a second thought, Lacey dipped her fingers into the pool of blood that resided on the chair and by her dead mother's feet, and painted the initials LM on Doreen's pale forehead in a deep shade of scarlet; claiming all responsibility for the murder of Doreen Monroe.

However, Lacey heard the front door close, followed by the calling of her mother's name. Deciding that the stepchildren weren't worth her time, despite the fact that they'd essentially taken her place, Lacey slipped out of the house through the back door; although she took the knife and the money from her mother's purse on the way out, along with an expensive gold bracelet to sell for a further profit.

Within a few days, Lacey was able to rent out an apartment of her own on the quieter side of town. It was a modest place but one that Lacey could finally say was hers with certainty. Never before had she owned something that was hers alone; all her past possessions had either ultimately belonged to her parents or there had been some sick catch behind her ownership. But now Lacey had something that was hers ans she thoroughly believed that she'd earned it. All that was left was to retrieve her companion from Arkham's clutches - although that would of course require a well thought-out plan.


	9. Chapter 9

As Lacey had hoped, her mother's death received a fair amount of media coverage – and with it came the conspiracy theories surrounding the nature of Lacey's own 'death.' Naturally, she was thrilled with the stir her name was causing in Gotham and barely cared that her attempts to link herself to the murder meant that she had to be incredibly cautious when roaming the streets. Even if a part of Lacey almost wanted to get caught; she was embarrassed to admit it but she was missing Jerome terribly. Which was why the escaped convict was planning on rescuing her partner in crime from Arkham's iron grip sooner rather than later.

Clad in the nurse's outfit she'd 'borrowed' for her previous escape plan, Lacey slipped her knife under her skirt and headed down to Arkham. One thing that Lacey found amusing was that she was able to slip into the building just as easily as she'd escaped from it just a month ago.

Wandering down the hallway, Lacey eventually reached the community room; knowing that the inmates would be eating breakfast at that time. Glancing through the glass window, she noticed her usual clique were still together – with the addition of a blonde female – in her old seat. Lacey frowned as she saw Jerome laughing with the group, seemingly content with the fact that she was gone. They all seemed perfectly okay, and it sickened her. Fair enough, Arkham had reported her dead to the world in order to hide their slip up over a month ago, but she'd have at least thought that Jerome would have still shown some visible signs of grievance. Why was he laughing and joking with their friends like nothing had happened?

Glaring, Lacey began to contemplate whether or not Jerome actually deserved her help. He and the rest of their usual crew had replaced her with someone more attractive and less argumentative and it hurt; although Lacey would've never admitted to feeling such jealousy. She felt betrayed and alone. Still, while she was at Arkham, Lacey thought that she might as well take care of some unfinished business.

~~~

Knocking on the office door, Lacey headed inside upon hearing a familiar voice accept her request to enter. Smiling, she locked the door behind her and waited for her old…acquaintance to acknowledge her presence.

"Yes, what can I help you with?" Dr. Roberts asked as she sat at her desk while finishing off some paperwork.

Lacey stood patiently in the doorway, wanting to remain quiet so as not to give the game away before her old psychiatrist could see her for herself. And when she eventually looked up, Tania was mortified to see Lacey standing in her office, dressed in a nurse's getup and smiling as if nothing bad had ever happened. It was unsettling to say the least, but the psychiatrist just couldn't turn Lacey in, not without talking to her first.

"You're alive…" While Tania Roberts should have been concerned about the fact, she couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to see that Lacey was in fact alive. It did release the psychiatrist from some of the guilt she'd been feeling over the girl's death after all. "…How did you…?"

Lacey shrugged, "I'm pretty durable. I survived my dad's beatings so three hefty prison guards was no problem." She chuckled wryly before taking a step forward. "But don't pretend that you're surprised. I'm sure you were in on the cover up too."

Dr. Roberts quickly shook her head. "No, no I wasn't aware at all. You have to understand that I've been going out of my mind with guilt, Lacey. I blamed myself for your death and—"

"Oh, so now you think everything can go back to normal? I'll go back to my cosy padded room and you can return to your paperwork without feeling the crushing guilt at knowing you'd caused my death…my murder." Lacey smiled pityingly and clasped her hands together. "This story just isn't going to have a happy ending, Doc. Well, in your case anyhow."

"Lacey, you know I'm sorry. I cared about you very much so; I wanted to see you recover and move on. But you didn't want to get better." Tania felt her heartbeat speed up as she noticed a darkening expression on the escaped mental patient's face. A look which she knew all-too well from weeks of evaluating Lacey's thoughts and mannerisms. "I-If you want to leave now, I won't tell anybody that you were here. This is your chance to start over and have a normal life."

"People like me don't get normal lives. I accepted that a very long time ago." Lacey took out the knife and laughed. "I've decided to embrace the darkness because, no matter how hard I fight against it, it will always be buried too deep within me." She shrugged, her finger tracing along the sharp edge of the blade. "This is who I am."

Tania drew in a sharp breath as Lacey stood over her with a twisted smile. She knew what was about to happen, yet a part of her had accepted her gruesome fate – just as Lacey had chosen to accept who she was becoming. "Did you kill your mother?" The therapist just couldn't resist shining a light on that truth; she'd wanted closure ever since it had occurred, being one of many who suspected that there was more to the story of Lacey's death.

"Even before your own death, you're still looking at the world through the eyes of a shrink, aren't you?" Lacey kept her voice dangerously low as she slowly dug the blade into Tania's abdomen, smirking as the therapist's shocked and pained eyes met her own. "Does that answer your question? And now, you're going to be found just as she was: bloody and still, with my initials on your forehead." She drew out the knife before plunging it back inside Dr. Roberts' body, holding the psychiatrist's head with her other hand so that she had no other choice but to stare at Lacey until her dying breath. Lacey not only wanted to see Tania Roberts die, but she also desired to see the look in her psychiatrist's eyes as she realised that Lacey had killed her – that she had failed in her attempts to save the last bit of human decency the teenage girl still possessed. And Lacey loved every moment of the ordeal. It wasn't nearly as liberating as killing her mother had been, but Dr. Roberts' death was still enough to feed the monster that lived within Lacey.

~~~

Before leaving Arkham, Lacey decided to get one last look at Jerome. Despite her anger at his supposed betrayal, Lacey was still undecided on whether or not she still wanted to help her lover-of-sorts escape; fearing that she would never find a partner as suitable for her as Jerome had been.

As the evening approached, Lacey used her appropriate appearance as an Arkham nurse to slip into Jerome's room. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" She said almost tauntingly, watching as Jerome laid sulkily on his bed.

Instantly recognising that voice, he sat upright and watched in shock as Lacey moved closer to him, her typical smile in place. It was evidently her, despite the nurse's outfit and multiple bruises and scars. But then Jerome realised what he believed to be the sad truth.

"I'm just imagining you're here." He insisted with a somewhat amused tone to his voice.

Lacey looked offended for a second, before walking over to Jerome. "Not you too. I thought you were smarter than that, Jerome."

"I watched them beat you, Lacey. Nobody could've survived that."

"Well I'm clearly not your average loon." She smiled as Jerome stood up from the bed to get a closer look at her. Jerome frowned at the scars on her pretty face, the ones that not even the layer of makeup could conceal, before his eyes looked over her form. The nurse's uniform really outlined her gorgeous figure that had once been hidden behind a large white Arkham gown. But Jerome still couldn't comprehend the thought that Lacey was alive: he'd watched her body get dragged down the hall, bloody and beaten. It was because of this image that Jerome was still convinced that he was just seeing things, that his subconscious had brought Lacey to his room for support.

"You're not crazy, Jerome." Lacey insisted, realising that he was still reluctant to believe the truth of her being alive. Sighing, Lacey pulled Jerome into a deep kiss and indulged him for a moment or two, before she bit down – hard.

Jerome touched his lip in shock and noticed the blood on his fingers from the wound Lacey had inflicted, which proved exactly what she'd intended to: that Lacey was alive. She was alive and standing right before Jerome with such a twisted, yet beautiful, smile in place. "Happy now, Jerome?"

"Lacey…" Jerome just couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. "You're alive…Lacey…"

"Jerome, I'm breaking you out of here. Not now, but soon. I came here to tell you that before you hooked up with that blonde bitch."

Jerome grinned at that, "I can't believe you're jealous of Barbara…"

"I'm not. I just don't want her sinking her claws into you because you, Jerome Valeska, are mine."

"How could I forget?" Jerome grinned at Lacey and kissed her once more before she turned to leave.

Stopping in the doorway, Lacey couldn't resist giving Jerome a preview of what was about to go down in Arkham. "Don't tell anyone you saw me; there's going to be a big commotion here tomorrow, just wait and see."

And just like that, Lacey was gone. She returned to her new life of relative freedom and slept easy knowing that Jerome hadn't forgotten her, that he was still crazy about the girl he'd met at the circus and again in Arkham. Lacey revelled in the thought of knowing that there was someone out there who loved her dark side, as much as she got a thrill out of seeing Jerome's own inner demons surface. As she lie awake that night, Lacey couldn't help but smile at the thought of all the havoc she and Jerome would wreak upon Gotham when she broke him out of Arkham. They'd repaint the city in the colours of madness and death and it would be a truly glorious sight – making up for all their years of pain and suffering. It was about time that Jerome and Lacey received the victory they deserved.


	10. Chapter 10

Lacey had it all planned out. She'd storm Arkham, open the doors and cause such unimaginable chaos; which would give her just about enough time to sneak Jerome out of Arkham. Perhaps she was going to help Helzinger escape too, she had always liked his strong yet silent approach. Still, Lacey figured that she might as well bust Greenwood, Dobkins and Sionis out as well; maybe she'd be more successful, more powerful, with a group of crazies by her side. Yes, she had it all figured out.

So to say that Lacey was shocked to find that Jerome and the rest of their clique had already escaped would've been the greatest understatement. Lacey had turned on the news to see the warning of the Arkham breakout, and had immediately thrown an angry fit. For her to have spent weeks planning a rescue, just for someone else to come along and scoop them up, truly infuriated Lacey. It was rude of the mysterious escape artist to have stolen her thunder, her Jerome.

Well, she wasn't going to sit back and take it. Defeat didn't suit Lacey Monroe at all, and she was going to see to it that she and Jerome finally had their moment of victory. They had waited long enough after all.

~~~

Jerome couldn't believe that he was finally out of Arkham. It already seemed that this arrangement was for the best, despite the recent murder of Sionis. Theo Galavan seemed to know exactly how to cause a stir in Gotham; he was powerful and calculating, with a certain amount of charisma, so Jerome just couldn't pass up the opportunity to become part of his envisioned organisation of chaos. That was what Jerome had always wanted: chaos and madness.

As much as Jerome loved Lacey, she just didn't have the resources that Galavan possessed; he wouldn't be able to claim the city as his own without the help of the mayoral candidate. Still, that wasn't going to stop Jerome from getting back to Lacey. Jerome felt bound to her and even now he was finding it impossible to get his girl out of his head. Ever since Lacey had snuck into his room, Jerome just couldn't help but go over that memory; it had been the only thing keeping him going until the day he was broken out. Truthfully, Jerome initially thought that Tabitha had been working alongside Lacey; she seemed like someone who his girlfriend-of-sorts would have chosen to affiliate with, but perhaps things had worked out for the best: Theo Galavan was a truly strong ally to have. Besides, Jerome could easily find Lacey and convince her to join their group. Surely she'd be up for wreaking havoc across Gotham City.

Au contraire.

Lacey had other plans. She'd never been one for teamwork, and the breakout had been Lacey's chance to shine as a strong individual, but now she'd been robbed of that chance. Being a very patient person, she knew that whoever had broken her old friends out of Arkham had a plan – and that they wouldn't have wasted time in spreading the chaos. Whoever had organised the breakout was truly cunning, yet Lacey had spent enough time on the streets to pick up a few tricks of her own. She had connections and although these new…'friends' didn't know of Lacey's real identity, it would've been easy enough for her to find out when Jerome and the others took the first step. It wouldn't take long, she guaranteed as much. But Lacey was delighted when The Maniax, as they called themselves, revealed themselves to the public a very short time after the break out.

The sound of screaming woke Lacey from sleep. She rose from the sofa, sighing groggily as she headed over to the window to get a good view of the commotion. That was when Lacey saw it. So far 4 men were laid in a pool of blood by the sidewalk; letters written on the straightjackets around their bodies. "M…A…N…I…" Lacey read them aloud before a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking but something so brutally cruel seemed typical of her old friends; Jerome had always liked to cause a scene, to grab people's attention, and this seemed to be doing just that. Squinting through the blinds, Lacey noticed that the workers in the office block across the street were all standing by the window, gawping in horror; as were all the unsuspecting pedestrians on the street below. And when there was disorder, insanity was usually a key component behind it. More specifically, 5 fugitives with their own unconventional…quirks.

Chuckling to herself, Lacey was quick to grab her binoculars and climb the stairwell to the roof to get a better view of the events unfolding across the street. Perhaps it was fate that she'd bought the apartment, because Lacey had a clear view of her old allies on the rooftop of the Gotham Gazette building – minus Sionis – even if that hardly phased her. Lacey was only really interested in Jerome. Somehow she found herself wanting to kiss that smug son of a bitch, yet also wanting to see him on his knees as she demonstrated the proper punishment for disloyalty.

A 5th man fell to the ground, the letter 'A' written on his back, followed by an 'X'. Lacey laughed at the name her old group of friends had adopted; she thought it was amusing to say the least, yet didn't stick around to see the final guy fall. Instead, Lacey headed across the street for a closer look – not at the bloody display – but so she could watch Jerome leave. She needed to find out where her so-called friends were hiding; moreover, who had broken them out in the first place. Lacey was dying to find out the identity of the person who stole her spotlight: her moment.

During her summer at the country club, Lacey had learnt but one crucial thing: she had learned how to track her prey. Documenting her thoughts on the rich and corrupt in the past meant that Lacey was artful enough to follow the Maniax back to their penthouse completely undetected.

Through the window she saw them. Her old friends rubbing shoulders with a guy who looked strangely familiar. She must've seen him in the papers or on the news; making him both resourceful and influential – and corrupt. But now, her Arkham allies were praising this guy like he was their leader, their saviour. In that moment, Lacey decided that she wanted to kill him; the overly-charismatic guy who had stolen her friends and her glory. She wanted to kill them all for cutting her off so suddenly. Even Jerome deserved to feel a little pain for his betrayal.

As she continued to watch, Jerome and Greenwood engaged in a heated debate, which Lacey thought was as petty as usual, before Jerome took charge by threatening to blow his brains out in a game of Russian roulette. Again, Lacey found this amusing; watching with a mix of opinions. Although she found Jerome's arrogance somewhat attractive and was pleased when the gun didn't go off, Lacey couldn't help but envision Jerome's brains splattered all over the evidently expensive furniture. Well, Dr. Roberts had always said she was insane.

That was when a conversation caught her attention. Lacey twisted her lips as she heard exactly where the so-called criminal geniuses planned to strike next – a brilliant idea coming to mind.

Although Lacey initially planned to steal the limelight by taking the bus singlehandedly, an even better idea soon formed in her ever-sick mind. It was time for her to step out of the shadows and reveal herself as the scorned and vengeful woman she was steadily becoming.

~~~

As Jerome brought the fuel hose onto the bus, Lacey was sat on the back of the vehicle; waiting for the ideal moment to reveal herself to her old clique. She had been sat there the whole time, dressed in a black hooded jacket with her head low in order to remain incognito; and this had surprisingly worked very well. With an amused smirk, Lacey had watched as her friends had hijacked the bus and terrified the cheerleaders half to death - all while Jerome showed off his unique comedic skills. Of course, Lacey had hoped to keep up her act of skulking however, since she didn't fancy the idea of getting soaked in fuel, Lacey decided to take the opportunity as they were moving at a faster rate than she'd anticipated.

Standing up and moving towards the aisle, Lacey whistled so to get Jerome's attention.

"Oh come on, just sit down…" Jerome urged, pointing his gun at the girl in the hooded jacket. "The rest of your little friends know how to behave. I don't wanna have to use this."

Lacey's lips twisted into a wicked smirk and she just couldn't resist pulling the hood of her jacket down, revealing herself to Jerome and the rest of her old friends. "I don't think you want to do that."

Of course the other members of the Maniax were beyond surprised to see their presumably dead friend alive and well in the middle of their heist, but Jerome was completely delighted.

"That being said, you've already stabbed me in the back…how is a bullet to the head much worse?" She stepped forward, walking slowly down the aisle as the cheerleaders watched in confusion at the sight before them; even though they felt apprehensive at the outcome, what with another unstable person in the mix.

Jerome laughed, "this is a joke, right? Lacey, I'm so…so thrilled to have you here! "

Before Jerome could embrace Lacey in his arms, she slapped him clean across the face. "Traitor."

"It's good to see you again, Lacey..!" Dobkins exclaimed giddily, about to climb aboard the bus to greet his old friend properly.

"Pipe down, Dobkins. I'll get to your backstabbing ass later." Lacey pushed past Jerome to stand by the doors of the bus; eyeing every one of her old friends with a bitter frown. "A bunch of traitors. I was about to come back for you ungrateful assholes. But the day before I'm about to, I turn on the news to find that I was screwed over!" She spun around to talk to the shaking cheerleaders on the bus. "How cruel is that? For your only friends, and the guy you love, to just…ditch you?"

Jerome furrowed his brow and stepped closer to Lacey. "Can't we do this later, gorgeous? I'm kind of in the middle of something…"

"I was in love with you!" Lacey shouted, a disgusted expression on her face. "You must all think I'm crazy but I fell hard for that ginger son of a bitch! Yet he stabbed me in the back when he ran away to join another circus." Lacey laughed bitterly, "this Maniax joke is ridiculous. You're all clowns."

"Lacey, don't…don't you dare say things like that." Jerome warned, his grin suddenly disappearing when he realised that Lacey's anger was real. He followed her off the bus, where the other members of the Maniax had gathered; equally bemused by her cold behaviour towards them. It wasn't their fault that they were broken out of Arkham before she got the chance to storm the gates, yet it would be near impossible to convince someone like Lacey of their innocence.

"You boys are going to have to learn not to fuck with me." Lacey paused as she heard the distant sound of sirens approaching and pressed her hand to her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh, that reminds me…you 'Maniax' better move fast…" A sharp laugh followed her cruel words, one that could've pierced through Jerome's mind, as they all tried to comprehend what she'd done. Her idea of payback was beyond cunning.

Greenwood grabbed Lacey by the arm, evidently furious at her ruthlessness. "You ratted us out to the cops? You bitch—"

"Let this be a lesson to you: I make a much better ally than an enemy...rethink where your loyalties lie…" She condescendingly tilted her head to the side. "You don't want to end up like dear Doc Roberts, do you?"

Then with one final sneer, Lacey walked away. Leaving her old friends reeling in shock at her dark and powerful transformation. As for Jerome, he had never felt more in love.

Lacey's mind had gone off the rails completely, to be replaced by something far stronger and cruel. He loved it though. Jerome just couldn't help but feel enchanted by the way in which Lacey had delivered her vengeful message – her warning – as it had even given him chills. Lacey Monroe was the only girl for Jerome, that much was now clearer than ever.

However, she was right: they had to move fast before the GCPD arrived. Lacey had presented the newly-formed Maniax with a challenge, yet Jerome had always loved the fun and games that one presented. Even though the chances of Lacey putting all her trust back in the group were very slim, Jerome was confident that he could win her over – after all, he'd done it once before.


	11. Chapter 11

"So you're saying one of your old…friends tried to sabotage our work?" Theo Galavan raised an eyebrow at Greenwood's begrudging claims; turning to Jerome for confirmation of this. "But you think she's a genius?"

Jerome nodded, "Lacey Monroe. She could be very valuable to our gang."

"You're only saying that because you used to bone her in Arkham. She's a lose canon, fucking insane." Greenwood sniggered; evidently he wasn't pleased with Lacey's actions and wanted her to pay, rather than join them.

"I think we should bring her in…" Barbara looked up from her glass of wine with a smile. "She sounds like fun."

Jerome grinned at Barbara, actually grateful for her input; if Galavan was going to take anyone's opinion into account, it would be Barbara's.

"She lives downtown. Across the street from the Gotham Gazette." Tabitha told them casually, as if it was the most trivial fact. "I saw her leave after the stunt with the school bus."

"And you didn't think to stop her?" Galavan snarled, rising from the chair.

Tabitha smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted to see how they acted under pressure. She seems smarter than all of them put together…"

"Fine. Jerome, you can bring her in." Theo finally agreed to the meeting; although everyone in the room knew that it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want any involvement with the girl who was trying to sabotage his plans – she could've ruined everything – and Galavan certainly couldn't have that. He intended to take Gotham by force, regardless of any casualties that may have to occur along the way.

~~~

Jerome was delighted to find that Lacey kept her key inside the light outside her apartment. He was granted easy access and strolled inside with ease; making himself at home, Jerome searched through his old companion's things, chuckling when he came across the money she'd stolen from her mother – and then some.

"Hands off my cash…" Lacey appeared in the doorway, dressed in a bathrobe with her dark hair damp and sticking to her face in places. It soon became evident that she'd just had a shower and Jerome couldn't help but smirk mischievously at her – while her expression was more unpredictable. "It's good to see that you've come to your senses, Jerome."

Shaking his head, Jerome sat on the bed while Lacey eyed him suspiciously. "I'm not leaving the Maniax."

Lacey snorted, "you've got to be joking. That group is just an excuse for that corrupt asshole to gain whatever power he's looking for in Gotham." She frowned. "He's just like my dad, you know. A charismatic pathological liar who will step on anyone to get what he wants."

"Hey, Theo's gonna make me a star. He's gonna help me become the person I always wanted to be." Since Jerome respected Theo and his methodology, he felt inclined to stand up from the bed and get closer to Lacey to get his point across. "I'm going to have everything I ever wanted, Lacey."

"Oh, Theo is it? Well why don't you go back to your boyfriend Theo then." Lacey glared at Jerome and crossed her arms over her chest. "I've no use for you if I don't have your loyalty."

"Gorgeous, you've still got my loyalty. I just wanna work with this guy until I have enough fame and fortune to go solo." Jerome tried his best to explain his situation but it was more than apparent that Lacey was a very difficult person to reason with.

"So you're working with the Maniax to achieve what exactly?" Lacey raised an eyebrow in a sarcastic manner, desperate to see a hostile reaction from her Arkham partner. "I forgot to say it earlier but nobody's going to take you guys seriously if you can't even spell 'Maniacs' right."

"Theo wants you to join us. You could be a valuable asset to our little gang." Jerome frowned suddenly, realising how Lacey had just insulted him. "Besides, our name is quirky."

Lacey burst out laughing at the offer; she honestly thought that Jerome had told her the funniest joke of her life. "Why would I do that? I wanted to be the leader of my own clique, like it used to be back at Arkham."

"Sure Lacey, you've got money but Theo also has connections. He has influence and power in this city – which you don't have. Please just stick with it for a little while?" Jerome never thought that he'd have to plead with someone to get his own way but, well, Lacey really did have some kind of power over him.

"I don't care. You all abandoned me for a guy you barely know." Lacey turned her back on Jerome to leave the bedroom. "Just go back to your pimp, Jerome. I don't—"

Jerome reacted quickly, grabbing Lacey's wrist so to spin her around to face him. Grinning down at her, Jerome pulled Lacey closer so that her body was pressed to his chest. "Lacey, I want you. And I can tell that you don't hate me. You've missed me as much as I've missed you, haven't you?"

"Let go of me you son of a bitch." Lacey hissed, trying to pull away from Jerome's strong grip; however she was firmly locked in his arms. And she hated it; she hated not having the upper hand, not being in control of the situation. "You're a selfish jerk, you never gave a damn about me. I was just—"

"You don't get it do you?!" Jerome forced Lacey to look at him by tilting her chin upwards. "I thought you were dead, we all did. Even when you paid a visit that night, there was still some doubt there…I still wasn't sure if it was just my crazy mind imagining things." A low chuckle escaped Jerome's lips as he thought back to the event in question, still holding Lacey tightly. "Speaking of that night…you looked hot in that nurse's getup. Do you still have it?"

"Yes, but what makes you think you're going to get to see it?" Lacey smirked against Jerome's lips as he inched closer to her, turning her head away at the last second, spurning his advances. "I know what game you're playing Jerome…" She stood on her tiptoes to reach his ear, her voice resulting to nothing more than a low whisper. "But I like winning. And I'm always going to win."

Jerome moved his hands to lightly tug on the front of Lacey's bathrobe, grinning wickedly, toying with her like she'd always done with him. "Well what about a tie? We could both emerge victorious…"

"Go fuck yourself." Lacey spat bitterly; although she was no longer trying to break free from Jerome's grip on her arms. In fact, Lacey was almost enjoying their battle for dominance.

"I have a better idea, gorgeous." Jerome's hands slid across Lacey's body, and she tensed up at the burning sensation he was giving her. "We should have a little fun. You in?"

"You want to play? Fine."

~~~

Lacey turned over in the bed to face Jerome with a breathless laugh. "Why didn't we ever have angry sex in Arkham?"

Jerome burst out in hysterics at that, his hands rested at the back of his head as he relaxed next to his on-and-off lover. "I don't know but I should piss you off more often…"

Lacey squinted her eyes at Jerome in warning. "Don't even try…"

"So you don't miss the excitement of an Arkham romance, huh?" Jerome grinned wickedly at Lacey as she shuffled closer and rested her head on his chest with a content smile.

"Of course I do; making out against a cold wall while the rats watched was truly romantic." Lacey laughed loudly, looking up at Jerome. "You did look good in stripes though."

Jerome's grin smoothed out for a few moments; remembering that he'd gone to find Lacey for more than an intimate session. "About Theo Galavan, I really—"

"Jerome, I told you I don't want to join your misspelt gang of idiots."

"At least meet him; you'll be pleasantly surprised, I promise you." Jerome grinned and buried his head into the crook of Lacey's neck, planting kisses on her skin.

Unable to supress a smirk at Jerome's intimate behaviour, Lacey nodded in acceptance; although he could tell that it pained her to agree. "…I'll meet him. But I won't promise to be on my best behaviour."

"You're a bad girl, Lacey Monroe." Jerome chuckled and kissed Lacey's forehead. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Jerome wanted nothing more than to lie in bed with Lacey forever; to tell his darkest jokes and catch up on the times they'd missed. Ever since he'd met Lacey, Jerome had wanted to know everything about her and, despite months incarcerated together, the redhead still knew that he had a lot to learn. Lacey was full of surprises and she had made it clear that she wasn't a force to be reckoned with – hence why Jerome desired to know exactly what had manifested such darkness within her.

But of course, Jerome had more prominent things on his mind; therefore he had to put his desire for romance on hold for a while longer. Potential power over Gotham had to come first.

As for Lacey, she was already dead-set on refusing whatever offer Galavan had for her; only agreeing to a meeting so that she could tell him so herself. No amount of prospect could ever convince her to comply with the rest of her old friends; she didn't want to be a follower – only a leader.

It had to be said that being in Galavan's secret penthouse reminded Lacey of her old life. She was surrounded by people with superficial views and ideas, and even her fellow Arkham inmates had fallen for Galavan's empty promises and disgusting charm. But Lacey was adamant that she wasn't about to conform. She'd never done so in the past so why was she about to fall into line now?

"I've heard a lot about you, Ms Monroe." Theo said with a smug expression; standing up to greet her with a handshake. However Lacey threw him a disgusted look at the gesture and kept her hands firmly by her side. "You murdered both of your parents and an Arkham psychiatrist, correct?"

"If that's all you know then you really don't know a lot about me…" Lacey smirked satirically at Galavan. "Although it's sweet that you've done your homework."

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Galavan, despite not wanting Lacey to be there, was evidently trying hard to win her around – which was proving to be a much harder feat than he'd initially anticipated.

"No thanks, I'm sure I'll be drunk from your bullshit soon enough."

Already bored of Galavan's attempts at befriending her...or whatever it was that he was trying to do, Lacey brought her attention to the other women in the room. She recognised the blonde as being her initial replacement, although the darker-haired woman was definitely unfamiliar.

"I saw what you did with the school bus. I was impressed." She stood up and sauntered over to them, with the blonde following behind with a glass filled with something strong. "I'm Tabitha, and this is Barbara."

"Nice to meet you." Lacey grimaced and turned to face Galavan. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, I hear you've got an invitation for me, Theo?" Lacey knew that simply her presence was enough to hit a nerve within Theo Galavan – and she loved the feeling too much. "I can call you Theo, can't I?"

Clearing his throat, all while trying to maintain his charismatic nature, Galavan stepped forward. "Jerome suggested that you might be well-suited for a project I'm running. My sister has also confirmed that you're a talented young woman, so I would like you to join us."

Lacey tilted her head to the side in mock deliberation, "hm…interesting proposition."

"Go on, accept…" Barbara cooed with a mischievous smile. "Us three girls could have a lot of fun."

Despite her initial dislike for the blonde who had taken her seat, Lacey was almost warming to her; she seemed wicked, as did Tabitha. Besides, at least being in the loop would give Lacey access to Theo Galavan – whom she still intended on killing for what he did. Although it almost killed Lacey to go against her initial vow to refuse membership, she knew that it would be better to be a part of the group for the time being. After all, it was the only way that she could have both Jerome and her plot for revenge at the same time. "Alright. I'm in."

Lacey just needed to bide her time and wait for her moment to arrive. And she intended to make it worth the wait.


	12. Chapter 12

"Oh, what's that?" Lacey asked with a smirk, watching from the bed as Jerome returned to the bedroom, carrying some folded clothes in his arms.

Jerome grinned and set the clothes on the bed. "GCPD uniform. Theo wants us to hit Gotham hard." He threw his shirt over his head to change into the blue button-up. "Can you imagine the notoriety after we pull off this stunt, Lacey?"

Lacey glanced over Jerome's torso; although she frowned when she saw the scarring on his back. Even though she'd seen the redhead without his shirt on numerous occasions, it still made her blood boil to see such permanent damage on his otherwise perfect body. Crawling to the edge of the bed, Lacey curiously picked up the officer's cap and placed it on her head, before her hand absentmindedly traced a dark scar just above the waistband of his trousers. "Why did you let them hurt you for so long before you pushed back?"

Feeling Lacey's hands on him, Jerome turned to face her; grinning at the sight of his girl wearing a police cap. "You wanna play dress up or somethin', gorgeous?"

That made Lacey chuckle; however she knew that Jerome was merely trying to change the subject. Still, she didn't want to push him for an answer – she knew all-too well what it was like to endure years of abuse and didn't want to bring up any unwanted memories. So instead, she allowed Jerome to change into his costume, ready for whatever show Galavan had planned.

"My nurse's outfit is at home, I'm afraid." Lacey pouted momentarily, before a wicked grin emerged onto her face. "But I've been a very bad girl, Officer Valeska. Maybe you should take out your handcuffs and-"

"Jerome, are you dressed? Greenwood, Aaron and Barbara are ready to go…"

Lacey frowned upon hearing Theo's voice on the other side of the door; more so when Jerome continued to change quickly, barely paying any attention to Lacey's look of disappointment.

"We can play later, okay?" Jerome kissed her quickly, before taking back his officer's cap and heading out the door; leaving Lacey alone on the bed.

Frankly, she was livid. She'd always hated getting brushed off for something more important – her parents, for example, had done that to her very frequently. There had always been some dinner party, conference or paperwork that required more attention than her. Lacey had never been their top priority and it seemed that she wasn't Jerome's anymore either.

With a bitter frown, Lacey quickly changed into her jeans and threw her jacket on over her tank top, before grabbing her bag and leaving Jerome's room. However as she was leaving, Lacey heard footsteps down the hallway, followed by a cruel snicker. "Leaving so soon, Miss Monroe?"

Lacey turned around upon hearing Theo's smug voice and glared at him.

"It must be hard to be second-best. Jerome will always put his own interests before you, you know that don't you?" Galavan took a step closer so that he was emphasising his height, and power, over the dark-haired girl. "You'd be better off leaving now, before you embarrass yourself."

"I'm not going anywhere." Lacey spat back, barely flinching when Theo's hand found her shoulder.

He chuckled cruelly. "Jerome will soon forget you even exist. He's destined for great things, whereas you, you're just the crazy little girl who killed her parents in a pathetic attempt to finally get some attention."

"You remind me of my father; you'll do anything for money and power. You're using them. Dobkins had blind faith in you and now he's dead. I won't let the same happen to Jerome, or Aaron." She tilted her head in mock deliberation. "I don't really care for Greenwood."

"But Jerome has already made his choice. He's chosen the Maniax over you, dear." Theo smiled smugly at Lacey, speaking in a low and dark tone. "I'll make sure that Jerome, and all of Gotham, see you for the pathetic waste of space you are."

"You're the ringleader of a ridiculous circus and they'll see that soon enough. Even Barbara won't cling to your empty promises forever…" Lacey threw him an expression of mock realisation. "You have more to lose than me…think of the scandal…what would the headline be? Mayoral candidate Theo Galavan is secretly a criminal mastermind." She smirked at him. "Although I use the words 'criminal' and 'mastermind' very loosely."

Theo furrowed his brow, "you're playing a very dangerous game, Miss Monroe."

"What're you going to do? Kill me?" Lacey pouted pitifully. "How cute…"

She noticed Galavan's hand straying towards the back pocket of his trousers and slipped her hand inside her own jacket as a precaution; Lacey hated to be hasty, especially when her presence alone was enough to irritate the sly man before her, yet she was more than willing to kill him before his time if it meant keeping her alive. If it meant engaging in a Western-styled standoff, then so be it.

"I hope the two of you are playing nicely."

Lacey and Theo looked to the corner of the room, where Tabitha stood in the doorway; arms folded and dressed in her typical leather attire.

"Of course." Galavan smiled from Lacey to Tabitha but both women could tell that his content expression was forced.

"I'll show you out, Lacey." Tabitha insisted, walking straight past Theo to take their guest-of-sorts by the arm – and away from her brother.

When they were outside, Tabitha handed Lacey a whip with a mischievous smirk. "Call it a gift."

"Thanks…" As expected, Lacey was taken aback by this gift and was initially wary to accept it.

"You'll have to forgive my brother. He's stubborn as hell because of his huge ego…you really intimidate him, you know." Tabitha barely stifled a laugh. "I shouldn't talk about my brother behind his back but he knows that he can't control you. You're smarter than Jerome, you know. You're just as ambitious but twice as cunning. That's why you being here riles him up." She forced the whip into Lacey's hand, still smiling. "I can teach you how to use it effectively."

Lacey nodded, her lips curling upwards to form a smile; both because of the kind gesture, but also because of what Tabitha had said – that she was easily able to rile Theo Galavan up. Perhaps she could use such a talent to her advantage. Although Lacey currently had other priorities.

~~~

Jerome grinned at the scene before him; dozens of bodies lie still on the ground and the smell of blood was strong in the air. All was silent, and it was his moment. Chuckling to himself, Jerome stood on the desk, as if to take in his surroundings; he felt invincible in that moment, as if he was truly in charge. After such a vicious massacre, all of Gotham would know his name. It was perfect.

Suddenly, he heard a low whistle behind him; jumping off the desk, he turned to see Lacey standing over Greenwood's lifeless body, an amused expression on her face. "You really are a bad cop, aren't you?"

"What are you doing here, Lacey?" Jerome asked, wide-eyed, strolling over to her.

"Did you really think that, after all I've done single-handedly, I'd just sit back and let you do this alone?" Lacey smirked and picked up Greenwood's cap, placing it on her head with a chuckle. "We've been split-up so many times, Jerome. I'm not going to let anything tear us apart again."

Jerome laughed and leaned forward slightly, as if to get a closer look at his girlfriend. "God you're so gorgeous. Especially standing in front of such a delicious backdrop. I wanna do you so bad on one of these desks…"

"Is that just the adrenaline talking?" Lacey raised her eyebrow, truly taking in the sight of Jerome in a blue uniform and covered in blood – both his and that of the officers he'd killed in the process. Grabbing his tie, Lacey pulled Jerome closer so that his body was a mere inch away from hers; her lips brushing against his in a playful manner. "Or is it because I'm such a naughty girl, and you're a really bad cop?"

Suddenly, Jerome kissed his girl deeply; his hands firmly holding Lacey by the waist while she continued to toy with the tie around his neck. When she pulled away, Jerome was delighted to see that Lacey's lips and the skin around her mouth were covered in his blood; she was so beautiful, so twisted – and she loved him.

"Red is definitely your colour." Jerome stated, his tongue rolling to the side of his cheek as he admired the image of Lacey wearing a police cap as well as a fair amount of his blood around her mouth.

"Well you know how I love my redheads." Lacey chuckled and bore her teeth in a mischievous grin, which caused Jerome to let out a loud and raspy laugh.

"When you smile like that…" Jerome inhaled deeply, "you do some wicked things to me, Lacey Monroe."

Lacey dark eyes met Jerome's and she calmed her voice into one of remote seriousness. "Only you can make me smile like that." However, the stillness quickly passed and Lacey picked up the video camera that lie by Greenwood's body. "How about we make a little home movie for Gotham City? You said you wanted to be a star…this can be your grand acting debut."

Jerome grinned as Lacey pointed the camera in Jerome's direction. "Sure gorgeous, but what should I say?"

"Be your devilishly charismatic self. Everyone loves a natural joker." She glanced up from the camera to wink at Jerome. "Your laughter is highly contagious, after all. I meant that in Arkham and I still mean that."

Once again, Jerome grew highly excitable; admiring the deliciously bloody canvas that he'd created in the GCPD while a low chuckle echoed in the eerily still room. But it wasn't just that: Lacey's opinion, her approval, meant everything to Jerome. Nobody had ever given a damn about the redhead before he met Lacey after all.

Her lips curled upwards in amusement at her boyfriend's vivaciousness and she pushed the record button on the camera. "Come on Jerome, make 'em laugh."


	13. Chapter 13

"You really want to do this?" Lacey glanced in Jerome's direction, watching as he jimmied open the door. "This is your father. Once you do it there's no going back."

"Okay, this is why I'm the comedian here. Why would you ask such a ridiculous question?" Jerome laughed as Lacey leaned against the wall, toying with the catch on the gun in her hand. "It's like you said; I have to show that old bastard how wrong he was to abandon me."

"Just wanted to be sure that you were still up for this." She raised an eyebrow, still flicking the catch, preparing for the kill. "You know, because Galavan didn't order you to come here. I forget that you can think for yourself."

"I'm still the boss, babe." Jerome insisted, casually strolling into Cicero's apartment. "Theo just gives the direction. I'm still in charge." Frankly, Jerome had gotten used to arguing in Galavan's defence recently; Lacey was still adamant that he wasn't to be trusted and since she was too honest for her own good, she'd had no problem in sparking an argument with the ringleader whenever possible. Theo had learned to ignore Lacey's snarky comments and sabotage attempts, if only to earn Jerome's trust as a cunning and capable individual; masking his true intentions in the process.

"What's the plan then?" Lacey asked with a hint of exasperation to her tone. "We frame your blind dad for breaking you out of Arkham? It's not a bad cover story…except for the part where Cicero is blind."

"Relax gorgeous, Theo's got this all figured out." Jerome placed the fabricated evidence on the coffee table so that Lacey could get a closer look.

"Galavan certainly doesn't want to get caught." Lacey's lips twisted into a bitter smirk as she contemplated tearing off his mask for the world to see – after she'd wormed her way back into Jerome's good books of course – her recent behaviour had indeed placed a strain on their relationship, hence why Lacey was trying to be as calmly wicked as possible. Although she was merely biding her time before the prime opportunity to destroy Galavan came about.

"Who's there?" Lacey and Jerome turned towards the door to see Paul Cicero standing there with a cautious frown in place; immediately sensing that something wasn't right.

Lacey stepped forward, "Mr Cicero, my name is Detective Monroe." Jerome tried to supress his amusement at Lacey's firm tone as she stepped forward to close the door behind the man in the room. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about your son."

"I know exactly who you are…" Cicero insisted, almost seeing straight through Lacey's façade, despite his apparent incapacity to do so literally. "You're Lacey Monroe. The girl who…you're a murderer. You're alive…"

Turning towards the armchair, Lacey flashed Jerome an impressed expression. "He's good. I never believed in that fortune telling bullshit but maybe you can restore my faith in the arts."

Lacey forced Jerome's father into the chair in the centre of the room, all while Jerome watched with a wicked grin at his girlfriend's rough treatment of the elderly man.

"Did you predict that this would happen to you today?" Lacey asked curiously as she tightly bound Cicero to the chair, glancing over at Jerome who sat opposite while wearing an approving smirk.

"You're on a dangerous road, Miss Monroe…" Cicero hissed, tugging against the restraints in the hopes that Lacey had done a shoddy job: she hadn't. "There's nothing but pain and desolation in your future."

An amused chuckle escape Lacey's lips at that; she was evidently reluctant to believe such ramblings, especially when things were finally going her way. "No, that's your future."

She twisted her lips bitterly as Jerome rose from the chair and leaned forward to laugh in his father's ear. "Hi pops, long time no see."

"Jerome…I…" Cicero started to speak but Lacey quickly gagged him.

"You're going to fucking listen to your son." She spat bitterly. "You let them hurt him, now it's your turn to feel that kind of pain..."

Before Lacey could retrieve her pocket knife, Jerome stopped her. "Gorgeous, we don't need to do that. Not yet anyway."

Although Jerome was too caught up in the thrill of the moment to admit it, it touched him to see how angry his abuse-filled childhood made her; she'd made no effort whatsoever to disguise this antipathy and if it weren't for their plan, Lacey would've no doubt killed the fortune teller already.

But as Jerome discussed the cruelty and pain he'd experienced from such a young age at the hands of his mother and her many partners, Lacey felt her blood boil and she could hardly contain herself. Although she regarded her own abuse to be a trivial fact, a part of her life which she would freely talk about with anyone, Jerome had always been reluctant to disclose too much information about his childhood. So now that Lacey was hearing such graphic details, she only saw red.

"Jerome, you're going to have to end this now!" Lacey insisted, her grip on her weapon tightening.

"Lacey, patience is a virtue." Jerome burst out into laughter; startling his father in the process. "You'll have to forgive her; my girl never has been persevering. See, I'm here on her suggestion." Moving away from the chair, Jerome stood beside Lacey and kissed her. "I'm sure you know why she was sent to Arkham, if your blind eyes really work."

"I murdered my dad." Lacey didn't give Cicero the chance to answer; taking out her pocket knife, she traced the blade lightly over his cheek. "I stabbed him multiple times…then I smiled. I've already explained to Jerome how liberating revenge is, and now he's eager to experience the same release. Sorry."

Jerome grinned, "Isn't she something else? Twisted and gorgeous…although you can't see that for yourself, can you?" He pulled down Cicero's gag, allowing him to speak. "Anything you'd like to say?"

"You don't have to do this…" His tone was weak and almost defeated with the knowledge that he was about to die. However Cicero turned his head towards Lacey while saying this. "You'll lose everything. Even yourself. You won't even know your own reflection in the mirror."

"Pops, quit trying to scare my girl." Jerome frowned when he noted how apprehensive Lacey looked – an expression which he'd never seen her wear. "Tell me about my future instead."

"You will be a curse upon Gotham…" Cicero began while Jerome listened intently with a wicked grin; evidently pleased at the prophecy he was set to live out. As for Lacey, well, she would've been lying to say that her own reading hadn't caused her to rethink a few things.

Then suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of knocking and Jerome directed Lacey towards the window while he finished off his father once and for all.

"You better call your boyfriend before they find us out here…" Lacey muttered as she and Jerome lingered on the fire escape stairwell as Detectives Gordon and Bullock burst into Cicero's apartment.

Jerome, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the danger of the situation and placed a finger to his lips while wearing a delighted smirk before directing Lacey towards the far window that had also been left open. Evidently, he wanted to have some more fun before they left.

The two slipped back into the apartment complex just in time to see Detective Gordon drag his woozy partner out of the apartment, barely conscious himself.

Being a great showman, Jerome strolled down the corridor with Lacey in tow; whistling a merry tune as he knelt down beside Detective Gordon, chuckling proudly at the chaos he'd caused. However, upon realising that he was now face to face with the redhead, Jim Gordon was determined to see to it that he avenged Captain Essen's death – yet Jerome couldn't help but maintain his wide grin – even with the detective's hands clasped tightly around his throat.

Still, Lacey felt the need to step in. She'd been living in the shadows ever since her Arkham break out so maybe it was down to her to help the madness to congeal.

"Your partner's sleepy, huh?"

Jim turned around to see the blurred image of the dark-haired girl stooped over Harvey with a smirk in place. "Who…who…" Before Jim could take further action, the gas in his system knocked him back to the floor; causing him to release Jerome in the process.

Lacey tousled Jim's hair playfully when he fell backwards and leaned in to his ear. "I'm not dead…" She whispered while smiling proudly at Jerome. "The famous James Gordon, taking a nap on the job…may I?"

"Of course, gorgeous. Knock yourself out." Jerome paused, laughing at his poor and somewhat ironic choice of words. "Or rather...knock him out."

~~~

"There was someone else there with Jerome. A young woman who seemed well-acquainted with him." Jim furrowed his brow as he tried to explain the current predicament to the rest of the precinct. Hell, it was a difficult feat; especially since he could barely make sense of the chaos that was currently conspiring in the city. All because of the eccentric redhead.

"I need the names of every female inmate in Arkham from the last year."

"You think she's an Arkham inmate?" Harvey asked with a baffled expression, curious as to how Jim's mind was currently working. "Then when the hell did she get out? Barbara was the only female broken out of Arkham with that Valeska kid."

"I want to know which inmates were pronounced dead on site by the asylum."

Because of the situation's urgency, the two detectives were quickly presented with the files of each female Arkham inmate from the last 12 months or so – and it wasn't long before Lacey's mugshot caught his attention. Not only was she the youngest inmate convicted to Gotham's harshest asylum in over a decade, at the mere age of 17, but Jim just found it so difficult to forget that dangerous smirk of hers. The very expression Lacey had worn in her mugshot was the same one that had shown itself right before she'd knocked him out with the back of her gun.

Sensing that they might've reached a breakthrough from Jim's concentrated visage, Harvey glanced over Lacey's files casually. "Yeah, she got locked up almost a year before you joined the force. Her dad was some business guy and because the girl wouldn't stop screaming about some abuse story, her mom sent her to Arkham. But she did die not too long ago, Jim."

"Why would Arkham claim she'd died when that's not the case?"

"Are you sure the psycho sidekick with Jerome was her?" Harvey asked with a slight grimace, evidently reluctant to believe any conspiracy surrounding the asylum. "We'll be rattling a lot of cages if we challenge Arkham."

"Harvey I know it was her. She must've escaped some other way and Arkham must've covered it up with the story of her death."

"Well I guess it makes sense; what with her mom and therapist getting butchered recently…" Harvey patted Jim on the shoulder with a genuine smile; although he was still feeling nauseous from his earlier encounter with Jerome's knockout gas. "Nice work, partner."

"I'll go and inform the other officers about this. We need to issue an APB for Lacey Monroe as soon as possible."


	14. Chapter 14

"Whoa, look at you, gorgeous…" Jerome grinned as he entered his room at Galavan's to see Lacey standing in front of the mirror, wearing the dress he'd chosen especially for her. A beautiful red and black number that really highlighted both her toned figure and the dark shade of her eyes. "Red really is your colour."

"Well I have to look my best for your big night." Lacey tried not to sound so cynical but she couldn't help but feel bitter about the fact that everyone had a part to play in the gala performance but her. Her role was to simply sit in the audience and smile proudly as Jerome became a star. Of course Lacey genuinely wanted Jerome to succeed but, at the same time, her old feelings of envy were quickly resurfacing. It was typical of Galavan to try and stir up so much trouble – trying to test Lacey until she finally snapped. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Not tonight anyway.

"I'm proud of you, Jerome." She forced a somewhat-convincing smile; desperate to keep Jerome on her side since his loyalty was indeed wavering between his girlfriend and Galavan. "And I'm sure that The Great Rodolfo will blow them all away."

Jerome grinned and wrapped his arms around Lacey from behind, hugging her tightly in front of the mirror. "After tonight I'll be a star. I can already hear the applause…I'll have everything I ever wanted."

"That's easy for you to say. I'm going to lose everything…" Lacey muttered under her breath; glaring at her own reflection in the mirror.

Jerome clearly heard her bitter words though, as she noticed his grin falter slightly. "What was that?"

Lacey watched Jerome through the glass of the mirror, a cynical smirk in place as she tilted her head to the side. "What did Cicero say, pain and desolation?"

"My father was just a crazy old fool. I told you to ignore what he said." Jerome shrugged, his arms still holding Lacey close. "We're gonna rule this town, Lacey. You and me, we'll be invincible. We'll be gods."

"I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago, Jerome. I may be crazy, but I'm also pragmatic." Lacey closed her eyes, unable to bite her tongue any longer regarding the subject of Jerome's rise to fame. "Look, I don't doubt that you'll succeed, I just…I don't think this is the right way to do it…" She sighed when she felt Jerome's grip around her body tighten.

"What are you saying?" Jerome's muscles tensed around Lacey as his grin fell into a displeased frown. "Why do you always have to do this? To attack Theo because of your stupid paranoia…you're obsessed, Lacey."

"Okay, maybe I am. But I don't trust him, and I never will." Lacey tried to keep her face still when Jerome's arms locked her in. All she could do was watch his frustrated visage through the mirror; she barely recognised herself in that reflection, and it killed her to see how weak she looked, and how much power Jerome had over her. The last two men to put their hands on her were dead – why couldn't she defend herself against Jerome?

"Now get your fucking hands off me before I bite your fingers off." Lacey glared into the mirror, waiting for Jerome's stare to soften as he relinquished his hold on her. Sure enough, Jerome's arms did fall to his side upon the registration of the sincerity of Lacey's threat. Well, she was evidently mad enough to take such drastic action.

With a heavy sigh, Jerome's jaw shifted to the side as he appeared somewhat pensive. "I'm sorry gorgeous. I just wish you'd listen, this joke has gone on for too long." He laughed, "it's just not funny."

"Grab me like that again and I'll show you unfunny." Lacey warned, fastening her bracelet around her wrist.

"Of course, I won't. Never again." Despite his attempt at sounding sincere, Jerome still hadn't ever been able to master such a tone. It just wasn't in his nature. "Come on, gorgeous. Smile. Smile for me! I hate it when you're so glum."

However Lacey didn't smile. "I can't keep doing this, Jerome. Galavan is playing you, you're his puppet. Why can't you see that?"

Jerome couldn't control his laughter, growing raspy and frenzied as he watched Lacey's rancorous expression; hoping that, as laughter was contagious, she'd follow suit and burst out too. Of course that was just wishful thinking.

"You know, I wish we were back in Arkham. At least in between therapy and the beatings I had you. And I thought that out here we'd look out for each other." Lacey shook her head, a mocking smile pulling her the corners of her mouth upwards. "Now I know I'm truly insane."

As much as Jerome hated to think it, in that moment Lacey reminded him of his mother; always nagging and criticising and trying to take control of every aspect in his life. Jerome could've killed her right there. If he didn't care about Lacey, if she was anyone else, then Jerome wouldn't have hesitated in disposing of her.

Lacey turned on her heels to leave the room but Jerome grabbed her, trapping her between the door and his form. "I love you, Lacey Monroe. You'll have your day but first, this is what I want." He told Lacey firmly, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "I want you as much as I want chaos. I need this, gorgeous; I need to take this chance to be a star." He exhaled deeply, his eyes staring straight into Lacey's dark pools in the hopes that he could get her to listen. "But I also need you to be there tonight."

"I hate you sometimes, Jerome. Because you're selfish. You have to have your own way or you throw a tantrum." She narrowed her eyes, yet her lips curled upwards to form a deep red smirk as an idea came to mind. "If I turn up, I want a moment or two in the spotlight."

Jerome chuckled, "You know I'd gladly let you do that gorgeous, but Theo—"

"Oh? But I thought you were in charge of the Maniax." Lacey cocked her head to the side, her tone innocent yet dripping with sarcasm. "You're still the boss, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, Lacey."

"Then figure something out." Lacey demanded. "You're smart, think of a way to get me on that stage tonight. I have big plans for my own debut."

Groaning, Jerome head fell backwards as he finally admitted defeat; moving away from Lacey so that she was free to step away from the wall. "Okay gorgeous, just for you."

Lacey smiled sweetly. "Thank you, baby." She kissed his lips before turning on her heels to leave the bedroom.

"Theo won't like it, you know." Jerome sighed, watching as Lacey left with a smug smirk in place.

"He certainly won't..." Lacey muttered to herself as soon as the door closed behind her.

When she headed down the corridor, Lacey noticed Tabitha skulking around the front room with a dissatisfied frown in place. As she got closer, Lacey realised that Galavan's sister was watching Barbara flirt with her brother; the pair of them completely unaware of her presence.

"It must be tough, having to share Barbara with your brother." Lacey remarked as she moved to stand beside Tabitha, feeling somewhat sympathetic of her situation.

"You have no idea…" Tabitha replied shortly, her eyes not leaving the other room once; her dark orbs held a look of yearning as she watched with a sullen expression. "But Theo always gets his way. It's always been like that."

"Don't you get fed up of living in his shadow?" Tabitha turned to Lacey in shock at the harshness of her words – and the truth to what she had said. "When it all comes down to it, he'll toss you aside."

Tabitha shrugged away her concerns. "You don't know that."

"No, but I've known men like your brother before." Lacey folded her arms across her chest. "My dad, for example. He craved attention and success. He was a ruthless guy and would've done anything to secure his position. Remind you of anyone?"

For a moment, Tabitha seemed pensive; like she was realising how accurate Lacey's words were, yet she didn't want to admit it. "Is that why you murdered your father?"

"He was a monster, but only I could see through his act." Lacey replied bluntly. "I just wish that I could've killed him sooner, before he had the chance to destroy me."

"Well you don't have to worry. I won't let anyone destroy me." Tabitha insisted with a strong composure; forcing a smile as Barbara and Theo headed towards them, their own sickening smiles in place.

"Are you ladies ready to leave?" Theo asked, looking from Barbara to Tabitha – purposely removing Lacey from the equation.

"Of course." Barbara grinned, moving to stand beside Tabitha where she leaned into her mischievously.

Lacey smiled, staring straight at Galavan with confidence. There was no way that she was about to let any man – let alone one as devious as him – push her out of the picture. "I am too."

"I wasn't aware that you'd be joining us, Lacey." Theo raised an eyebrow, his tone condescending as he glanced over her dress. "Your family is – sorry, was – reputable, correct? I'm sure you'll fit right in with the crowd."

Ignoring his subtle jab, Lacey straightened upright to emphasise the fact that she had no remorse whatsoever – and also that he didn't intimidate her in the slightest. "No, I believe it's more your scene, Mr. Galavan. Corrupt liars and rich frauds…you're bound to make some friends." She quickly winked at him, challenging the man before her to make her regret such insolence; yet Lacey was smiling, because she knew that Theo wouldn't dare to take action with Barbara and Tabitha as witnesses.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I should go get Jerome. He's a big primper." Chuckling lightly, Lacey headed down the corridor; a proud stride in her step as she walked away and slipped inside Jerome's bedroom. All while Galavan watched with a rancorous frown in place.

"What's wrong, Theo?" Tabitha threw him a sideward glance, her expression somewhat amused as she realised how skilled Lacey was at riling her brother up.

"I do believe that Miss Monroe has overstayed her welcome." Theo responded; working hard to regain his composure as if to prove to the two women in the room that he was completely unfazed by Lacey's complete audacity.

Barbara laughed, "don't be so grumpy. I like her; she's interesting."

"That's not the choice of wording I'd use to describe her." Theo replied bluntly, his brow furrowed as the risks that came with Lacey's presence at the gala came to mind. She was intelligent and had already asserted her ruthlessness; therefore the ex Arkham inmate truly was a force to be reckoned with. Yet Galavan was more than prepared to take action in order to ensure that his rise to power was successful and completely unopposed.


	15. Chapter 15

For Lacey, it felt strange to be out in public again; surrounded by prestigious Gothamites, dressed up to the nines in their gowns and tuxedos, as they sauntered about the room in their appropriate groups. She couldn’t help but think back to the events she’d attended with her parents. How they’d laugh and gossip with the other guests while Lacey was forced to find her own amusement.

Strolling over to the bar, Lacey ordered a drink and decided to fraternise with those around her in an attempt to fit in with the crowd; although she evidently had to proceed with caution in case she came across someone who paid close attention to the news. After all, Lacey’s death was gradually becoming a significant conspiracy – especially after Detective Gordon’s claim that he had seen her alive.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She turned to the side, meeting the stare of a young man probably not much older than her; although Lacey herself had always looked older than her actual age. “Thanks but, I’m good.” She handed the bartender the money and raised an eyebrow as the young man took the seat beside her. Judging my his suit and overly-confident demeanour, Lacey figured that he was new money; having earned his fortune himself, rather than borrowing it from his parents’ or descendants’ pockets, unlike most of the wealthy people in the room.   
“Maybe later?” He suggested, taking a drink from his glass. “I’d hate for a pretty little thing like you to be all on her own.”

Lacey chuckled slightly. “I’m not a pretty little thing. Nor am I on my own.”

“Then who did you come here with?” 

“He’s around.” She forced her sweetest smile, really deciding to pile on the charm; returning to her old act from when her father would force her to endure the company of boys her age during one of his dinner parties. “And believe me, he would kill you if he saw where your hand was right now.”

Lacey glanced down and nodded to where his hand had rested on hers; causing him to withdraw quickly, feigning an amused laugh. “You into magicians?”

“Not really. But I’ve heard the guy performing tonight is really good.” Lacey finished off her drink and stood up to leave the bar. “Excuse me.”

He looked up, “I didn’t catch your name…”

Lacey turned around, a mischievous smile in place. “Oh but that would spoil the surprise.”  
/  
It wasn’t long before the guests took their seats; with Lacey sitting down at a table with a prime view of the stage. She wanted Jerome to see her throughout his performance; to fill him with confidence, but to also remind him of his promise. Glancing towards the other side of the room, Lacey caught Galavan’s almost mocking stare; she just knew that he’d been carefully observing her since her arrival at the gala, which made her feel sick to her stomach. But at the same time, Lacey couldn’t help but grow excited for what was to come. Just picturing the look on his face when Jerome called Lacey onstage was enough to make her chuckle – he would be pissed – because Jerome’s loyalties would always lie with her. 

Although she already knew how good of a performer Jerome was, his act as ‘The Great Rodolfo’ truly left her in awe. She’d always told Jerome how charismatic and entertaining he was, brightening her days in Arkham Asylum with his jokes and eccentric behaviour, but a large audience had been what Jerome craved – and now he had it. For a moment or two, Lacey wondered if Jerome was going to change his mind and maintain his spellbinding role; evidently he was enjoying playing the part of the magician, and it was easy to say that he did so perfectly. Yet of course any doubts were soon broken when Jerome eventually revealed his true colours.

Jerome got off on the sounds of their screams; the panic and chaos that one knife had caused. Any thoughts were drowned out by the sound of the gunshots and Jerome just couldn’t help but erupt into violent laughter; accentuating his excitement at the whole situation. His eyes searched the crowds; the terrified faces that met his enhanced the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. Then he saw her. Lacey was staring up at him, a sly smirk on her face as she threw him a playful wink – clearly getting as much of a kick out of the disorder as he did. 

“If you’re all finished…it’s time for the real show to begin.” Jerome spoke into the microphone, eager to continue with his performance. He’d longed to be in the limelight for years and now was his moment. 

Lacey sat patiently as Jerome taunted the scared audience before him; taking charge of the show by playing with the various guns and knives that had been strategically placed on the table before him, all while Barbara acted the part of the glamorous assistant. As expected, it wasn’t long before Galavan stepped forward in order to establish his role as Gotham’s heroic saviour. It made Lacey feel physically sick to watch; it was evidently all an act but he had the guests practically hanging on his every word. Even Barbara and Jerome seemed to be enjoying his speech. It was almost as if he was wearing a mask, and only Lacey could see the conceited and cunning man beneath it. He was hiding behind his wealth and status and false promises – just like her father had always done.

But when Barbara cut his speech short, Jerome looked to Lacey with a mischievous look in his eye. “Who would like to be my next volunteer?” He pointed at his girlfriend, beckoning her onto the stage while the guests watched in horror; some sympathising with the ‘poor girl’, whilst others were just relieved that the redhead hadn’t called on them.   
The crowd stayed still as Lacey climbed the stage, somewhat fearful for her life as she was taken by the hand by Barbara and led into the centre. Jerome slipped an arm around her, “what’s your name, gorgeous?” He grinned into the camera, holding the microphone in Lacey’s direction. As promised, she was about to get her moment, and she loved how every single person in the room was watching her – along with the viewers at home. 

“I’m Lacey Monroe.” Came her strong reply as she stared directly into the camera, with a wicked smirk in place. “Lawrence Monroe’s daughter.” She clarified, scanning the audience and recognising many of their faces – and they finally recognised her too. Since the last few years of Lacey’s life had been widely documented by the police and press, having come from an influential family, there wasn’t an individual in the room that didn’t know what she had done. And the feeling was incredible.

“I would like to clarify a few things, right here and now.” Lacey took of the guns from the table and held it high as a symbol of her willingness to put down anyone that tried to interrupt her. “Yes, I killed my dad. Then I killed my psychiatrist, my mom, the guy at the corner store who wouldn’t give me my change…to name a few.” She shrugged, “He deserved to die you know, my dad, I mean. He was a liar and a brute; he beat my mom to a pulp and yet, she still took his side. It was easier for her to ship me off to Arkham and brand me insane than to publicly open up about her abusive sham of a marriage. And you all believed her. You believed them.” Lacey laughed, her voice strained. “You’re all crazier than me if you thought my father was a decent human being.” 

Jerome naturally followed suit; letting out a loud and raspy laugh. Although he usually hated sharing the limelight, Lacey was the exception. Because she had essentially been the catalyst for his own deviance. Jerome never would’ve told Lacey this, but he admired her; she was his equal, a perfect partner in crime, and she understood him like nobody else.   
“The three of us have murdered our parents in cold-blood, so imagine what we could do to all of you.” She smirked and pointed her gun in the crowd, taunting the guests by moving her aim across the sea of petrified guests until her aim rested on someone she really did recognise at one of the tables closest to the stage. “I know you. You played golf with my dad at the country club…you told me I’d gained weight a few years back.” But instead of shooting the man in her line of sight, Lacey shifted her hand slightly so that the bullet she fired shattered the wine glass on the table, instead of her target, barely missing him. When the guests cried out sharply, having feared that the dark-haired girl’s first bullet was for them, she smiled and glanced at Jerome. “Believe me, you’ll be relieved when we finally kill you all.”

~~~

Detective Gordon watched in horror as Barbara and Jerome stood either side of his girlfriend, their faces contorted into sadistic smirks. “You son of a bitch…” He said into the phone, scared for Lee’s safety and the wellbeing of all the helpless guests in the room. 

“What’s wrong, James?” Jerome asked teasingly, staring directly into the camera; knowing that the detective was watching powerlessly from the outside. “It’s only fair that we play a game with your girlfriend after you sent out an APB for my girl’s arrest. She didn’t appreciate it, did you Lacey?”

“Not really, no.” Lacey sauntered into view, growing excitable at the realisation that the police were just outside. “No hard feelings about me knocking you out though, right?”  
“Jerome, you don’t have to do this.” Jim held the phone tighter as Jerome sauntered the stage in a casual yet evidently unstable manner. 

Jerome mocked a thoughtful look, before returning to his typical grin. “Actually I do. You’ve got ten minutes to give me what I want before I start killing people. Remember, this is being broadcasted to every home in Gotham…so don’t let people die.” He erupted into a raspy and uncontrolled laugh before hanging up. Honestly, Jerome actually hoped that Detective Gordon wouldn’t meet his demands; after all, killing some of Gotham’s most influential citizens would’ve been enough to make him famous – or infamous – which was what he truly desired. 

~~~

It had been five minutes since Detective Gordon’s phonecall and Lacey had begun pacing round the room; glancing over every attendee as though she was a predator, choosing from a vast line-up of potential prey. Her stare fell upon the young man who she’d met at the bar and she tapped her gun playfully against his head, licking her lips as she saw the fear in his eyes. “Surprise…” She whispered, leaning forward. “So, now do you believe that my boyfriend would kill you for flirting with me?”

He nodded, lips pursed tightly as he attempted to hold it together; closing his eyes when Lacey pushed her gun firmly against his head. “Lucky for you, you were never friends with my father. Otherwise you’d be on my hit-list.” Lacey moved around the table, laughing when she caught sight of a familiar face. “But you, I’m sorry but you’re an enemy by association.” She directed her gun at the man's hand with a bitter frown; it was as though she was recalling some deep memory that she had long since repressed. Perhaps he had offended her during one of her family's grand parties - either way, Jerome knew that it was too soon to let his girlfriend pull the trigger - even if he truly wanted to witness Lacey's own demonstration of ruthlessness.

“Lacey, it hasn’t been ten minutes.” Jerome insisted, looking from his girlfriend to Barbara, who was still clutching a knife in frustration; evidently desperate to claim Detective Gordon’s girlfriend as one of their victims. “You women have no patience.”

~~~

Lacey and Barbara merely watched in amusement as Jerome carried out the main event; leaving Jim Gordon completely unable to do anything to stop it. Jerome carefully eased the knife along Bruce’s throat; only breaking the skin but that alone was enough to spark fear within everyone in the room. Gordon and Bruce’s butler both had their guns aimed at Jerome but it was no use. The redhead had proven to everyone that he was indeed in control of the situation; calling all the shots as he struck fear into them all. But then Theo emerged once again, having regained consciousness. 

He took one hard look at Lacey, seemingly smirking at her briefly before making his way to the centre of the stage where Jerome stood, chuckling manically as he carried out his sick game. Lacey watched carefully, unsure as to what Galavan’s intentions were. 

“I said enough!” Jerome turned to face Theo, who Lacey noted seemed beyond displeased, yet she just presumed him to be acting again. But such thoughts were immediately eradicated when she caught sight of the knife in his hand – which he plunged into Jerome’s neck before Lacey had the chance to warn him. All she could do was watch helplessly as Jerome fell to the ground, bleeding out quickly with the knife still in his neck. She started screaming his name, pushing past Galavan where she fell to her knees and held Jerome in her arms. 

“You’ve got to stay with me, Jerome. Stay with me…don’t you dare leave me here…” Lacey held his neck, where the blood spilled onto her hand. Jerome tried to speak but he just couldn’t manage to string along a sentence; all he could do was stare at Lacey desperately through wide and bloodshot eyes; evidently shocked beyond belief at what Galavan had done, yet somehow he was able to manage a wide grin just as he took his final breath.

“Jerome?” Lacey blinked in surprise, her eyes stinging slightly. When Jerome’s expression remained still, unable to chuckle or reveal it all to be a joke, Lacey couldn’t breathe. She shook him hard, becoming desperate as the realisation hit her. Subsequently, Lacey looked up at Theo with a vicious glare, firmly grasping her gun. “You killed him!” 

Sensing the young woman was about to react, Jim Gordon stepped forward; his own gun raised in Lacey’s direction. “Put the gun down, Lacey. I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

“Go on, shoot me!” Lacey shouted, aiming at Galavan. However, despite the anger in her tone, Lacey appeared to be smirking as though she was tempting the detective to end her life, and that perturbed him. “Then you’ll never know who orchestrated the Arkham breakout.” She wanted to test Galavan, but he refused to give in; his facial expression firm even when Lacey’s finger touched the trigger. But that was what irritated her the most. Galavan was mocking her, he wanted to see her break. And since Jerome was dead, Lacey just didn’t see the point in standing down. There was no way out; she’d either end up back in Arkham or dead at the hands of Detective Gordon – so she might as well have tried to avenge Jerome’s death in the process. 

As she pulled the trigger and fired at Galavan, Lacey so desperately hoped that the latter would be applicable to her situation.


	16. Chapter 16

The first thing Lacey saw when she opened her eyes was a bright light that streamed in through the window adjacent to her bed. At first she presumed herself to be in a dream-like state; she had never experienced such silence, nor had the sun ever revitalised a darkened room in Gotham before. Yet she then noticed how this sunlight accentuated the grime on the window panes, as well as the chipping paint and the cracks in the glass. That was when Lacey realised where she was – and that the dream was over. 

She was back in reality. And it was as dark and painful as it was when she left it.

“Oh good, you’re alive.” A shadow stepped into view, and Lacey felt sick. “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t wake up.”

Lacey tried to move but her ankles and wrists had been tightly bound to the bed; leaving her defenceless against the man before her. “I shot you…you should be dead…”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but it seems that Detective Gordon didn’t want to take any chances.” Galavan smiled and pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Frankly, the only person dead is Jerome.”

“You son of a bitch..!” Lacey snarled, tugging against the restraints on her wrists. Regardless of the consequences, she still wanted the man before her dead. More so than ever after what he’d done. “He trusted you, and you killed him.”

Galavan chuckled, “it’s a shame that Jerome chose fame and power over you. Otherwise he’d still be alive.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lacey narrowed her eyes, “I wasn’t convincing enough because you manipulated him – you manipulated them all! I don’t even know why I’m still alive, aren’t you afraid I might talk?”

“Oh, of course that was a pressing concern of mine. But, well, you are a little insane; the general consensus is that you broke Jerome and the others out of Arkham so you’re really no threat to me at all.” He leaned in closer, his voice low, as though he was about to tell Lacey a secret. “Besides, you’re right where I want you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She frowned, still trying to free herself from the bed.

Still smiling, Theo’s expression became patronising – yet highly unnerving at the same time. “Killing you would be too easy. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even know your own name. You’ll be a shadow, a ghost, silent and forgotten for the rest of your pathetic little life.”

“You’re not in charge of my therapy.” Lacey put on a confident smile in order to mask her worries. “You have no authority in here; the lunatics run the asylum, remember?”

“Perhaps so, but a lot has happened since you went to sleep, Lacey. I was recently elected Mayor, so I do in fact have an influence on what goes on in my city – that includes erasing you from existence.”

She could barely stifle her amusement at that. “I’ve been in here before. I’ve escaped before. I’m immune to this place; you can’t harm me.” 

“You’re optimism is admirable Lacey but, well, I’m in control here. I’m going to have my way, and you’ll be a puppet in my plan, just like everyone else. Just like Jerome was.” He feigned a pitying look. “Jerome possessed the same confidence you do but not even that could save his life, could it?”

“You think you’re so powerful but you’re nothing but a coward. You can’t even get rid of me with your own two hands.” Her icy glare became severe as she imagined all the things she’d do to Galavan if her limbs weren’t strapped down to the mattress. “People like you hide behind your money and status. You’re no different to my father, and if I got rid of him, how hard can it be to get rid of you? Don’t underestimate me for a second…I’ll be out of here again in no time.”

Theo straightened his posture and observed Lacey closely for a moment, a pensive look in place, before he turned to leave. “I do hope you get better soon.” He snickered cruelly before heading out the door; leaving Lacey alone with her racing thoughts and her desire for revenge.

~~~~~

As promised, the newly elected Mayor returned a few days after Lacey had woken up. He stepped into her cell and watched proudly as she was dragged from her bed to the treatment room. And it didn’t stop there. 

Lacey had experienced the painful treatment that Arkham was notorious for in the past, yet that was nothing compared to the unbearable feeling that day. Because Galavan insisted that the doctors continue; even when the voltage became dangerously high, he showed no mercy, no remorse, whatsoever. He didn’t care, so long as all threats to his plan were eradicated – and that included Lacey Monroe. 

Through it all, she desperately tried to cling onto her identity – her insanity – but it was as though she was being ripped from her body, leaving behind an empty vessel. When it was over, Lacey fell limp and was hauled back to her room like a doll. She didn’t argue once – heck, she didn’t even speak. Her body ached and she could feel the sharp pain in her limbs, yet she couldn’t move an inch.

It was like Lacey was more than an inmate in Arkham Asylum now; she wasn’t just trapped in her room anymore, she was a prisoner in her own body. But the treatment wasn’t just a one-time thing. 

Knowing that Lacey was a strong-willed individual, Galavan insisted that such a routine be repeated a few weeks later, and a couple of times after that; using the excuse that he needed to ensure that Lacey was ‘cured.’ Although it was evident that his real aim was to live up to his promise of destroying Lacey Monroe once and for all.

Regardless of how hard she tried to fight it, the effects quickly became long-term; completely transforming Lacey into Galavan’s puppet – still and silent, just like he wanted.   
“I hope you’re not too mad at me…” Galavan smirked as he watched Lacey from the doorway of her cell; noting how effective the treatment had been, although he was somewhat cautious due to the girl’s acting abilities. But for once, Lacey was unable to demonstrate her intelligence. 

Galavan paced the room, his eyes never once leaving her pale face. “I only did this for your own good, Miss Monroe. You’ve been terribly sick lately so it was good of me to help cure you, wasn’t it?” He chuckled and moved to stand over her; smugly looking down on the girl as she sat still on her bed, almost as if he wasn’t even there. 

“Do you realise now? How truly weak and insignificant you are…” He touched Lacey’s shoulder as if to test for a reaction. But she barely even flinched. That only intensified Galavan’s pride. “I told you, you never even had a chance. You were always going to lose against me, because you’re nothing more than a mental patient. The world has already forgotten about you, Lacey. You’re already dead.” 

All Lacey could do was stare intensely at the wall in her room; her eyes were empty and face absent of any emotion. She could hear every word of what Galavan was saying yet none of it evoked any feeling within her. Her mind was a blank slate, her body acting as a cage. There was no way out.

That was when Galavan realised that he really had won, and that instilled him with confidence to continue with the rest of his plan to take back the city.


	17. Chapter 17

_"I don't want to go. Everyone looks at me funny, like I shouldn't be there."_

_"Well you have every right to be there, Lacey. I'm the CEO and you're my only child." Lawrence eyed her carefully as he fixed his suit jacket. "So don't make a scene this time. Just smile for the photographers and look interested in whatever the other guests have to say."_

_"You and mom could always go without me. You could say that I got ill and—"_

_Her father shook his head sternly, "you're not getting out of this, Lacey. Now sort your hair out, it looks like you just rolled out of bed and I can't afford to be seen in public with you in such a state."_

_"Is that all you care about? How we might appear to the world?" Lacey frowned, "I just want a normal life…away from all the parties and the people who look down their noses at me. I want to live like a normal 16 year old girl, is that too much to ask for?"_

_"Well that's never going to happen Lacey, because you're not normal!" Lawrence snapped, his voice raised as he glared harshly at his daughter. "Everyone laughs at us because you're a freak. We're not as welcome anymore, because of you. You're a disappointment to me and your mother. This weekend is your only chance to change those preconceptions, so don't let us down."_

_"Yes, sir." Lacey mumbled and glanced at the ground. "But if you'd just listen—"_

_"You're nobody important, Lacey. The sooner you realise it, the better." Her father cut her off and headed for the door, "I can't help but wonder if things would've been different if we'd have had a son, like I wanted. Perhaps you could've been someone I'd be proud to call my child, I suppose we'll never know."_

* * *

Memories like those had plagued Lacey's mind ever since she had been locked away inside her own body. It wasn't like she could do anything else. She was essentially a prisoner of her own mind after all. The therapy had truly robbed Lacey of her insanity; although such thoughts remained, Lacey appeared to be no more than an empty shell to the staff that occasionally came into her room to feed her. It was almost as though Lacey was a caged animal at a zoo.

From time to time the asylum's director, Hugo Strange, would come into the room to observe her. At first he was cautious enough to remain in the safety of the doorway with one of the nurses but, after a while, he became satisfied with Lacey's condition and would confidently stride about the room; taking notes while rambling to himself about life and death.

Lacey was forced to listen to such vague statements and although she didn't understand much of what was being said, she couldn't help but feel as though there was more to the Doctor than most people knew. If only she could've said that to his face.

Jim knew it was a long shot. To ask a dangerous mental patient for advice regarding his suspicions about the new mayor was definitely one of his most spontaneous ideas yet Jim was without a plan. There was definitely something off about Galavan and, since those who might have been of help were either dead or in hiding, the detective had been left with no other choice but to go to Arkham Asylum for a meeting with the only associate of the Maniax who could talk.

Or so Jim thought.

Now, Jim hadn't believed what he'd heard about Lacey's current condition; she was evidently an intelligent girl who would've resorted to a life in silence in order to convince the staff that her treatment had worked, that she was a new person, and that was exactly how Jim perceived the situation to be. Until he saw it for himself, that is.

She didn't even acknowledge his presence.

Jim entered the room and watched Lacey carefully in order to observe her movements – or rather, lack thereof. She was pale and still, as though all the life had been sucked out of her.

"Miss Monroe…" Jim eventually tried to get her attention, but Lacey didn't even twitch nor did her eyes give away any sign of understanding. It was like Jim was speaking a foreign language, or even that he was invisible.

"I'd like to talk to you about the Maniax...and Jerome Valeska." He paused, waiting to see if hearing her late-boyfriend's name struck a chord.

For a moment, Jim could've sworn that Lacey's lips moved slightly, as though she wanted to speak but was unable to do so. In that moment, he realised that the treatment really had worked, but maybe a little too well. Still, Jim was persistent. After all, it wasn't like he had anything to lose.

"You broke out of Arkham before the Maniax. I know it wasn't Paul Cicero, so that leaves you." Jim hoped for an answer, a nod, or even just a sign that Lacey was listening. "Did you break Jerome and the others out?"

Then Lacey shook her head ever so slightly, it was a small motion, but a sign of understanding nonetheless.

"Do you know who did?" Although he hated to jump to conclusions, to believe a man like Oswald Cobblepot and his frantic claims, but he had seemed so certain. Much like Lacey had when she'd pointed that gun at Galavan's head. "Did Theo Galavan have anything to do with it?"

Lacey didn't respond. Of course she wanted to; she wanted nothing more than the whole of Gotham to see Theo Galavan for the man he truly was – a conniving snake – yet when she tried to speak, no words came out. But somehow, that look in Lacey's eyes was enough. Her frustrated and pained expression told Jim everything he needed to know.

"He did, didn't he." Jim paused, hoping that Lacey would be able to vocally corroborate this belief, but she could only look at him, her lips trembling as a tear rolled down her cheek.

That was the first time that Jim really started to question the asylum's methods. Sure, the people confined between the four grey walls had committed such vicious crimes, while displaying a severe amount of instability, but they were still human beings. Lacey Monroe was just a child.

Jim knew how dangerous Lacey was; she'd murdered at least half a dozen people – including her parents – and had helped Jerome and Barbara take hostages at the gala but he still couldn't help but pity her. For Lacey to turn out so unstable, her childhood really had to have been difficult; regardless of all the positive connotations that were associated with the term 'wealth.'

"I'm sorry." Jim threw her a slight smile, a token of his sincerity, before he turned to leave.

But somehow the word acted as a trigger for Lacey. Without warning, she burst out laughing; causing Jim to jump at the unexpected sound. He turned around, a confused frown in place. At first Jim wasn't sure if he was merely imagining things – it wasn't like he'd slept much recently after all – but the expression on Lacey's face seemed real enough.

"You're sorry?" She was just as surprised as Jim when her inner thoughts slipped from her lips. "If you were sorry then you'd have tried to help me before I got like this. I called the police _twice_. Someone should've believed me but nobody came to help." Although Lacey's tone was harsh and unforgiving, Jim recognised a certain look of vulnerability in her eyes and he knew that some of the blame for the deterioration of her psyche did lie within the GCPD. "If I hadn't killed him, he'd have killed me and my mom. It was me or him."

Although it hadn't been the detective's intention to turn the visit into an interrogation session, he doubted that he'd ever get another chance to speak to Lacey. Besides, she'd always been a complicated case; her actions leaving a series of unanswered questions behind.

"Then why did you murder your mother?"

"She left me to die in here." Lacey answered almost immediately, as though what she'd done was easily justified. "Besides, I needed the money. I'd just broken out of this place and it wasn't like I could just stroll into the first store and ask for a job."

"And your therapist, Ms Roberts?"

Hearing the name of her second victim brought a twisted smirk to Lacey's lips. "I'd almost forgotten about the good ol' Doc. Poor Tania…" She feigned a sad tone before chuckling softly. "I suppose I just…felt like it?"

Jim frowned and watched her closely, sensing a sudden change in the atmosphere that unnerved him greatly; causing him to move backwards slightly in order to put some distance between them.

However, this brought Lacey great amusement. "Relax, I've got no intention of killing you yet."

The word 'yet' stood out to the detective as alarming and he made sure to stand by the door.

"Hey, it's not like there's a knife hidden under the bed or anything." Lacey laughed but Jim apparently didn't appreciate her eccentricity.

"Seriously Detective, why would I murder you when Galavan's still out there?" She smirked and stood up on her own accord for the first time in weeks. A bit unsteady on her feet at first, Lacey leaned against the wall due to her desire to not appear weak in the eyes of Jim Gordon. "In answer to your question, yes it was him. Galavan created the Maniax to help build his public image as a hero."

"Could you verify this in court?" Jim asked; having run out of leads, Lacey's word seemed like the only chance of sending the new mayor away for his transgressions.

That made Lacey laugh. "I doubt the courts would believe the word of a crazy person."

"Well you're the only member of the Maniax that can corroborate this story." Jim told her frankly, even if he knew that she was right. Not even Harvey Dent would be willing to believe the testimony of Arkham's youngest sociopath. "Jerome would want you to do this."

Even if Jim had been close to convincing Lacey, that statement had caused him to completely lose her interest. She would've laughed, had she not felt a sting at hearing him mention her dead boyfriend. "You don't know a single thing about me or Jerome." Lacey took a step closer towards him, her eyes wide and fists clenched. "See, Jerome would've wanted me to kill you. He would've told me to take my duvet over there and strangle you with it." She pointed to the bed as if to confirm that there was indeed a potential murder weapon there. "But I won't do it, because I can be reasonable."

"You want me to break you out." Jim shook his head without any hesitation. "I can't do that."

"Well I guess that I'm unable to speak again." Lacey's smile was thin and brittle, before she pursed her lips together and resumed the unresponsive display from earlier. Although this time she was just acting, Jim had to admit that it was almost believable and feared the worst for the trial. Especially since there was no actual proof that Lacey had told him all about Galavan's crimes.

"Miss Monroe, please…"

Lacey kept her expression still, her eyes bearing no emotion, just like before; leaving the detective with no other choice than to leave her alone once again.

However, now that she'd been broken from her trance, Lacey was now at risk of being dragged back to the treatment room. It would be difficult for her to maintain an act that was believable since her previous state of silence had occurred against her will – hence why Lacey could only hope that she was a good enough actress. But what Lacey didn't know was that her room had been fitted with cameras in the event that she achieve a breakthrough.

Doctor Hugo Strange had witnessed her recover unfold while wearing a delighted expression on his face.

"Should I schedule another dose of therapy for her?" His assistant, Ethel Peabody, asked as she studied the screen.

The doctor stood up and shook his head, his smile still in place. "Oh no, I believe she's far more useful to us in that condition."

"She could be trouble. She's escaped the asylum before."

Strange chuckled. "Then I suggest we make sure she wants to stay. We just have to give her an offer she can't refuse."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge time gaps between updates; I've been on holiday and I'm going to university next weekend so it's becoming difficult to find the time to update my fics on here while running my tumblr. But I promise not to stop this fic abruptly - there will be an ending of some kind - even if it just takes a while to get there.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter picks up pretty much where the last one ended. So I hope you all enjoy; please leave a review if you have the time, it'd be really great of you :)

As a child, Lacey had quickly learned to remain out of sight and out of mind when it came to her parents. Her father had always expected a respectful silence from her; to speak when spoken to and to behave with the utmost dignity and grace at all times. Since Lacey had witnessed the ways in which Lawrence Monroe had punished any insolence from an early age, particularly since her mother was often at the receiving end of his bad temper, she had never dared speak out against him – not until her late teenage years that is. After growing up in the background of countless one-sided fights between her parents, Lacey had eventually had enough of hiding in her room, of blocking out her mother's cries by burying her face amidst the pillows on her bed, and made the ultimately terrible decision of interfering. And while Doreen should've realised how serious the situation was at that moment, upon witnessing her husband strike Lacey for the first time, it did little to open her eyes. In fact, instead of acknowledging the fact that Lacey had stepped in in an attempt to help her, Doreen didn't say a thing. No words of comfort or reassurance followed, nor did she hold her daughter close as she cried herself to sleep that night. Nothing.

That day truly signified the end of the perceived closeness that Lacey had with her mother. The incident only drove a wedge between them, with Doreen siding with Lawrence every single time.

It hurt Lacey to lose her mother. While not physically absent from her life, Lacey felt a certain coldness every time Doreen looked her way, and she just couldn't understand why she resented her just because of that night. Lacey had learned long before then that her father's love and respect were out of reach, but Doreen had once promised to always be there for her. So what had changed?

A knock on the door broke Lacey away from her thoughts and she quickly returned to her typical position on the bed – legs crossed, back straight – all while staring blankly at the wall before her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey noticed the asylum's director lingering by the door, while his closest assistant stood close by. After a minute or so, Doctor Strange took a few steps into the room; although he made sure to keep a few feet between him and his patient, probably as a precaution in case she snapped.

"How are you doing today, Miss Monroe?" Hugo Strange asked, his tone almost eerily calm to match the smile he wore.

Unaware that her meeting with Jim Gordon the previous day had been monitored – as well as every other moment since her apprehension – Lacey remained still, her lips a thin line and her eyes empty hollows.

"Hm, still not responsive I see…" The doctor sighed, a brief look of disappointment on his face, before his eyes lit up behind his spectacles. "Oh I was hoping you'd be as lively as you were yesterday."

Lacey froze, sensing that she'd been caught out; although she still chose to maintain her act.

"I'm afraid I have eyes everywhere." Strange chuckled as Lacey tensed up, realising what he meant. She'd been caught out, and now she was terrified; knowing that they'd send her back for treatment, to turn her into a quiet puppet once again. "So you can stop playing games now. I actually bring good news."

Narrowing her eyes, Lacey turned her head to face him. "Are you going to kill me?"

Strange chuckled briefly, shaking his head in answer to her question. "I have a proposal for you, Miss Monroe. If you'll take a walk with me."

Lacey's expression grew suspicious and she watched him carefully for a moment; understandably wary of the director's intentions. "A walk to the treatment room?"

"Of course not. Why would I want to waste such potential?"

His choice of words got Lacey thinking and she knew she had to tread carefully at this point. The last time she'd heard the word 'potential' had been whenever Jerome had been talking about Galavan – and she knew exactly where her boyfriend's trust in that word had led him. But then again, what did she have to lose?

"One question…" Lacey's face now bore the slightest of smirks. "Will I be dragged down the corridor on this walk of ours? I fear I might've forgotten how to use my legs since your staff always drag me about like cargo."

"That depends. Will you be on your best behaviour?"

Lacey shrugged and slid off the bed, before following Strange to the door. "Depends what you're offering."

* * *

Stepping out of that elevator, Lacey knew that not even she could've predicted what she saw. She'd heard tales of monsters lurking in the night when she was a young girl, and while she'd always pictured her father as the true definition of the term, the beings she saw in the basement were something else. Sensing that the creatures down the corridor scared the patient slightly – although she never would've admitted it – Hugo was quick to guide Lacey into one of the dimly-lit laboratories to the side.

Lacey furrowed her brow at the sight of the tubes, both confused and unnerved by their existence. Especially when she acknowledged the fact that all this had been going on right beneath her. So why had she been invited to join the elite few who knew of the laboratory's existence?

"Why am I here?" Lacey eyed the doctor warily. "Are you going to put me in one of those?"

Hugo chuckled and took a step forward, proudly admiring his own work. "I admit I considered it. But you're definitely more valuable in your current state." He moved to the desk and picked up a file that had been left there. "You see, hearing you speak with Detective Gordon like that really impressed me. You're incredibly intelligent, and your file further proves this." He opened the file and turned to the pages he desired as evidence to prove his claim; even if Lacey already knew the information he relayed to her. "You were at the top of your science classes in high school…well, you excelled in all of your classes."

"I had no choice. I'd be having a chat with my father's belt if I didn't get good grades. Lacey let out a cynical laugh and Strange couldn't tell whether she was being serious or just joking around. He decided the former was more likely.

"How would you feel about helping out down here?" He asked, stepping forward to admire his work. Lacey observed the doctor for a moment; taking in the way in which he seemed to stare proudly at his surroundings, like a man who had everything he could ever want. Frankly, Lacey just couldn't decide whether she thought him brilliant or completely insane.

Deciding to test the waters a little since she was curious as to what benefits she'd gain from this plan, Lacey took her file from the doctor's hands and placed herself on the edge of the desk, reading through it for a moment. "So…why should I work for you exactly? I'm already being locked up, why should I work in order to earn my keep in a place I'd love to see burn to the ground…"

"Because I can give you something in return. A very rare gift."

Lacey raised an eyebrow, "oh yeah? And what might that be?" She turned the page in her file. "I do think my second mugshot's better than my first, don't you?"

Doctor Strange decided to ignore Lacey's question and beckoned her closer, gesturing towards the rows of tubes that had recently been installed and filled with those who had recently passed away – or had been murdered.

"I can give you another chance." He nodded towards a tube on the right and Lacey glanced upwards, curious as to what the doctor meant by that. "That's what you want isn't it? What we all want?"

Lacey followed his stare to the tube to their side; squinting, she made out the silhouette of a young man. His head was down, hiding his face, but that red hair and those childhood scars – ones which only she had seen – were an instant giveaway as to who was inside the tube.

"Jerome…" Lacey gasped, a stunned silence following her realisation. She placed her hand on the glass, staring in awe at her dead boyfriend – whom she had presumed had been buried weeks ago. "Can…can he hear me?"

"I'm afraid not. I haven't worked out the final steps just yet. But if you agree to my terms, I'll make sure that Mr Valeska is a priority."

Lacey smiled, thinking of how happy that would make her; she wouldn't be lonely anymore, she'd have someone to live for. But then something hit her.

"Will he remember me though?"

"Hm?" Strange glanced at her, surprised that such a thought had entered Lacey's mind. However he was also concerned, because it was highly possible that Jerome wouldn't return the same person.

"Because what's the point in bringing him back to me if he doesn't know who I am?" She furrowed her brow, still staring at Jerome. "What if he doesn't want anything to do with me? What if he comes back and there's nothing there in his crazy beautiful mind? Like me after that treatment…"

"I admit that it's a risk but…think of what it'll mean if Jerome makes a full recovery." Strange was trying to mask the desperation in his voice, trying not to let it show how valuable he regarded Lacey to be to his cause. "The two of you can leave this place and enact your revenge on all those who wronged you."

Lacey glanced up at him, still wary to believe what he was saying. "You want an army, don't you? My god, you're as crazy as Galavan..!" She laughed loudly, turning around to face him with a stunned expression.

"Excuse me?" Strange raised an eyebrow, surprised by Lacey's reluctance to agree to his plan. He'd been almost certain that she'd be pleased.

"What's the point in bringing Jerome back if he'll just be a pawn in yet another messed up game?"

"Well what could I do for you that would persuade you to accept my offer?"

Lacey thought for a moment, a smirk on her face as she mulled over the things that she could ask for…but what did she want?

"So you want me to stay in this place…" Lacey paused, folding her arms across her chest. "But will I still be treated as an inmate if I work for you?"

"Now Lacey, you know it wouldn't be fair to the others if I gave you special treatment." He saw Lacey's expression darken and decided that he had no choice but to give in to her. "What do you have in mind?"

"No meds, no therapy sessions and could I have real food instead of that slop you force us to eat?" She waved her file in his face, "and I want to hang onto this for a few days. It'll give me something other than that wall to stare at."

"Alright. I'm glad the two of us could reach an agreement." Doctor Strange smiled at Lacey and waved Ms Peabody over. "Please could you escort Miss Monroe back to her room, Ms Peabody?"

Nodding obediently, the nurse directed Lacey in the way of the exit and she surprisingly agreed to return; although not before throwing one last look at the doctor.

"By the way, I want a lab coat. You know, so I can feel part of your little team." Lacey smirked wryly at Strange before turning to walk away; leaving him to wonder if letting Lacey become involved in his plans really was such a good idea.


	19. Chapter 19

"Would you look at how the mighty have fallen." Oswald looked up, frowning when he saw the smirk on the girl's face. He recognised her from somewhere, but his disorientated state following his cruel treatment prevented the former King of Gotham from figuring out how he knew her.

"Oh come on, don't be so glum." She took the seat next to his, still smiling. "Ignore them, they're just crazy; they're harmless really." She paused, waiting for a response. "I'm Lacey, by the way. So should I call you the King of Gotham?"

"Oswald will do just fine." He uttered in a low and almost defeated tone, before throwing her a puzzled glance. "Wait, aren't you…?"

A pleased grin graced Lacey's face. "Lacey Monroe. The girl who faked her death and escaped Arkham, yes that's me."

"I was going to say the girl from the tv broadcast at the gala, with Barbara and Jerome Valeska." Oswald replied. At that, Lacey's delighted expression faltered slightly; apparently that wasn't exactly the event she wanted to be most known for…it hadn't been a solo project like her others after all.

"I killed someone before they did, you know." Lacey said, her tone indicating that she was actually proud of the fact. "And if it hadn't been for that bastard Galavan, I'd have broken Jerome, Barbara and the others out of here."

Oswald paused for a moment, unsure as to whether or not Lacey was aware of the reason for his conviction – that Galavan had been murdered by, well supposedly, him.

"He hasn't come to see me in a while though…strange…" Lacey thought aloud, basically confirming what Oswald had suspected. Clearly, the inmates at Arkham were allowed very little contact – both physically and metaphorically – with the outside world.

"I'm happy to tell you that there's a good reason." Oswald smirked slightly, "Galavan died by my hand."

Lacey stopped. Blinking in surprise a few times as her mouth remained slightly ajar, Lacey needed a few moments to allow what she was being told to sink in. Galavan, the man she'd sworn revenge upon after all that he'd done to her, was dead.

Now, of course Lacey would've loved to have delivered the blow, to have made Galavan stare into her eyes as she killed him, but she didn't care. She just felt utterly satisfied with the knowledge that he had received exactly what he deserved.

Turning to Oswald with a twisted smirk, Lacey laughed with glee. "So that's how you wound up here."

Oswald nodded; the admiring look on Lacey's face acting as a deterrent alone. Perhaps, in due time, he'd reveal that he wasn't the one to end Galavan's life, but for now, he just wanted to make a good impression with the only inmate who appeared to be at his level of sanity…well, insanity.

"What was it like then? Did he beg for his life? Did he die slowly?" Lacey grinned widely as she awaited Oswald's answers; desperate to know exactly how he'd put an end to the man that had stood in her way on countless occasions.

"He did beg…" Oswald smirked at the memory. "After I beat him, over and over, he begged me to end his life."

"How did you do it?" Lacey asked with a chuckle.

"I shot him. He died instantly." Oswald recalled how quickly Jim had done what he deemed necessary; although he was still unsure as to why he'd claimed to be the murderer, why he'd willingly taken the fall for Jim Gordon.

Lacey furrowed her brow slightly at that, apparently dissatisfied with that. "You made it too easy for him, you know."

Oswald nodded, actually agreeing with her. "I know. But there wasn't a lot of time. If I could go back and kill him again I would."

"…He took someone from you too, didn't he." There was an underlying softness to Lacey's tone as her brown eyes met Oswald's intense emerald ones.

"My…my mother." Oswald was quick to respond, desperate to hide the trembling of his voice. He still hadn't come to terms with his poor mother's demise – and he was convinced he'd never get over it. Gertrud had been the only person who truly cared for him. "She was a good woman, she didn't deserve any of it. She was…the only good thing left in my life."

While Lacey did pity Oswald, sympathy didn't exactly come easy to her; it wasn't in Lacey's nature to show an ounce of remorse or understanding towards another human being. "Sorry about that." Lacey truly had meant her words to sound sincere, but she knew her apology hadn't come across as she'd intended.

Despite the somewhat brazen way in which she'd spoken, Oswald could tell that Lacey was trying her best to be genuine, and that made him smile ever so slightly. After the morning he'd had – after the weeks of hiding on the streets – it was a welcome change to once again have an ally. He'd need one in Arkham after all. And who better than the girl who knew the system like the back of her hand?

"So what're the procedures? Do they give us medication?" Oswald asked, glancing around at the other inmates who were either engaging in arguments with one another or sat alone sobbing in the corner.

That made Lacey laugh at first, but her amusement didn't last and soon she shook her head, tone suddenly serious. "They don't use methods of treatment here, just methods of torture. They get inside your head and destroy your psyche over time."

Oswald was unsure as to whether or not Lacey was being serious, but the grave look on her face quickly confirmed the validity of what she was saying. But then again, she seemed perfectly unaffected; despite having been in Arkham for a considerable amount of time – again.

"I know what you're thinking…" Lacey leaned closer to Oswald, a playful smirk in place. "Why isn't Lacey behaving like a gormless fool like the rest of them?" She pointed to her head, tapping it with her index finger. "I'm unbreakable. I went crazy like these guys, I was basically dead already, but then something brought me back and now I'm just as I was before."

Of course Lacey couldn't reveal the rest of her recovery story to Oswald, even if she felt proud of such an achievement. She'd already been sworn to secrecy in regards to her involvement in Hugo Strange's project – as well as the basement's very existence – and Lacey was determined to keep her word, if only to avoid stepping foot in the treatment room ever again.

"That's the real test, you know. If you make it through the night with your mind intact then you're truly a strong person." Lacey looked over to where one of the inmates was sat ranting on and on to himself, incoherent and insane. "If not, you end up like him."

Despite having put on a brave front since his arrival, desperate to maintain his reputation as the powerful King of Gotham, Oswald was now feeling apprehensive for what was yet to come – and Lacey could tell – what with his anxiety now being visible for all to see.

"Relax, Oswald. I got your back." Lacey tried to reassure him with her typical grin, nudging him slightly. "If your brain does turn to mush, I'll be here to help bring you back towards the brink of insanity."

Blinking in surprise at her words, Oswald turned to Lacey and studied her profile for the first time since she'd sat down. While her face tended to accentuate the fact that she'd experienced many hardships in her life, the dark bags under her eyes that were a stark contrast to her paling complexion and the way in which her expression remained hardened just like her tone, upon closer inspection Lacey was clearly much younger and more vulnerable than she let on. She was only 18 years old after all. It was just incredibly easy to forget about such a crucial piece of information; especially because of the reputation that Lacey had earned over the recent months.

"Why are you talking to me?" Oswald asked, his mind questioning Lacey's motives, her reasons for reaching out to him when she really didn't need him.

Lacey thought for a moment before she shrugged. "I've never really had any friends. I figured it was time to make one, because we share a common enemy…and you killed him." She chuckled wryly. "I think we're gonna get on great. That is if Strange doesn't mess with your head first."

The sound of heels on the floor caught their attention and Lacey turned around to see Ms Peabody standing behind them, her expression as unreadable as always as she looked from Oswald to the dark-haired girl he was sat with. "Lacey, it's time for your session with Professor Strange."

Understanding the situation completely, Lacey nodded and went along with it; standing up from her seat to follow Ms Peabody out of the community room – although not before she glanced over her shoulder to throw Oswald a look of encouragement.

Oswald didn't know what to make of Lacey Monroe; she was evidently different to the rest of Arkham's inmates, with her wit and the way that she seemed completely in control. However there was also an edge of danger to Lacey and, even though Oswald wanted to put all his trust in her, he felt as though it was too early to refer to the young inmate as a friend just yet.

But he supposed there'd be plenty of time to get to know her. After all, it wasn't like either of them was going anywhere anytime soon.

* * *

Lacey followed Ms Peabody to the basement, the pair walking in silence until they were out of earshot and far from the other inmates. "So how's it going, Ethel? Is that a new perfume?"

Strange's assistant was as unresponsive to Lacey as ever and quietly stood beside her as the elevator declined down to the basement. Although she stopped Lacey before she could enter one of the labs. "You shouldn't speak to the other inmates you know." She insisted, referring to Lacey's encounter with Oswald.

"Why not? We're all in this shitty situation together, might as well make the most of it." She smiled mockingly before entering the lab that she had become accustomed to over the past few weeks. It had become her workspace, the place in which she'd help Strange with his projects and listen to his tireless rambles about his hopes for his children while maintaining face and offering a few words of encouragement in the process.

"How are you today, Lacey?" He asked with a smile, watching as the girl slipped into the white lab coat that had been purchased for her upon her appointment to the team.

"Same as usual. I'm alive and insane." She smirked, visibly proud of the fact, and joined Strange at his desk, trying to take a peek at the book he was reading. "What're you working on today?"

"A project which I'm sure you'll love. Quite a few bodies came in last night." The Arkham director stood up and beckoned Lacey over to the corner of the room, where a body had been laid out on the grey bench along the wall.

Since Lacey had agreed to become one of Strange's loyal workers, to provide significant help to his cause, Hugo really had taken a shine to the young girl. Somehow, despite her initially argumentative nature, Lacey was in possession of numerous character traits that the doctor really admired; she was eccentric yet intelligent, ambitious and fearless, and he'd come to see her as a loyal ally in such a short space of time. Maybe even like a niece.

"Oh, look who it is." Lacey tittered gleefully; instantly recognising the corpse before her. As much as she hated seeing him again, what with the name alone bringing back memories that made her blood boil, Lacey was actually delighted at the sight of her enemy…dead. "Galavan's looking well isn't he."

"I understand the two of you had a few difficulties in the past…" Strange was honestly surprised that Lacey hadn't reacted badly at the sight of his corpse, especially after what he'd done to Jerome. "But you have to admit, he'd make a very good addition to my army."

Lacey nodded, admiring the bruises and scars that covered the ex-mayor's body – the ones that her new ally had inflicted. But even so, Lacey knew he deserved so much more.

However, Lacey was actually thrilled at the prospect of reanimating her arch-rival. Not only would it bring some excitement back into her life, since she missed having someone to be at war with, but it would ultimately give Lacey the opportunity that she craved – to murder Galavan herself. Regardless of her newfound respect for Hugo Strange, and the doctor's apparent liking of her, Lacey was determined to gain retribution for both her and Jerome. She'd never been one to let things go, and Galavan was no exception.


	20. Chapter 20

"When they take you, you wanna bite down hard. It'll alleviate the pain, trust me." Lacey told Oswald, her tone serious as she warned him of the horror of the treatment room. She wanted her new friend to have the warning that she had never been blessed with; he needed to be prepared if he was to make it through the torture ahead of him. "They'll mess with your mind, try to make you doubt yourself and your sanity – don't let them. It's important that you ignore those images and avoid confusing them with reality. They aren't real, they can't hurt you. Understand?"

"What kind of images will they present me with?" Oswald asked cautiously, trying to take on board all that Lacey was telling him.

Lacey shrugged, "your greatest nightmare I guess."

"And what did you see?" Oswald was now staring directly at Lacey. It wasn't just his survival he sought after, he was curious as to what had brought Lacey so close to the edge. She always seemed like such a strong character after all, so what was she so afraid of?

For a moment, Lacey was silent; she retreated into the dark recesses of her mind to draw out the scenes she had been presented with during her treatment, the ones that had contributed to her weeks of silence. However, she was quick to force a smile, masking the anxiety that had returned with such dark images. "It was nothing. I'm not scared of anything, that's why it didn't work."

Oswald nodded, all while praying that the procedure wasn't as harrowing as Lacey was making it out to be – even if, deep down, he already knew how accurate her retelling of events was. She knew all-too well what life inside Arkham was like, after all. But she had survived, and so would Oswald.

Or so they had both thought.

When Oswald returned later that day, Lacey noticed straightaway that something was off. His eyes were dull, his expression distant, and he barely acknowledged her even when she stood right before him. "Oswald? Hey, you in there?" She clicked her fingers in front of his face, causing Oswald to blink in surprise, as though he'd been awoken from a trance. His tired green eyes met Lacey's and he smiled as though he hadn't seen her in a decade.

"Oh, hello. It's good to see you, Lacey."

She frowned, it was pathetic. They'd turned her new friend's mind to mush in a matter of hours. The fire within him had been put out, and it was only going to get worse. The Penguin was gone, the king without his crown. "What the fuck did I tell you about fighting it?" Lacey hissed, leaning forward so that her face was mere inches from Oswald's; needing the close proximity to ensure that her words would reach Oswald. "Oswald, you're the King of Gotham so fucking act like it. I know you didn't just stroll to the top, you worked hard for that crown. You toiled and you endured torment. You took in every spiteful word they said about you but you still climbed higher in the end, you showed them who was in charge. So do that now. Forget about what happened in that goddamn room and wake up. Take control, Oswald, because nobody else in this fucking asylum has the guts to do it."

Lacey's sharp stare could've pierced through any surface in that moment, but her words just didn't resonate within Oswald. They couldn't penetrate through the damage that had already been done by Strange and his staff.

"I was actually starting to like you…" She grumbled, perching herself on the edge of the table. "It's typical that they'd take my only ally from me. You poor penguin."

Oswald looked at her with an almost childlike innocence. While his demeanour had almost been pitiful when she'd first met him, Lacey thought this was something else entirely. Notorious criminals had always fascinated Lacey and after her initial stay in Arkham she had taken it upon herself to become more familiar with such notable figures – just in case she required their help in the future. Oswald Cobblepot had been an individual who had particularly caught Lacey's attention; in a matter of months he had climbed to the very top, and that alone evoked a certain amount of respect within her. The journey Oswald had embarked on was exactly what Lacey aspired to recreate – from an underestimated nobody to someone in possession of unimaginable power – hence why her fellow inmate's altered state of mind displeased her greatly. No, it angered her.

Lacey obviously knew first-hand what Strange did to his patients in order to treat them of what he perceived to be an illness and while she hadn't cared about what happened to the previous inmates that had been dragged through the doors, she had felt a real connection to Oswald. Even if her admiration of his success may have affected that preconception a little. Regardless, it was unfair to waste such potential, to destroy such a brilliant mind, and Lacey would be sure to make Strange aware of her frustration.

* * *

"What did you do to Cobblepot?" Lacey asked in an irritated tone, barely giving the Arkham director the chance to register her presence in the room. "You took him away for a few hours and now he's completely brainless."

"I did what was necessary, Lacey." Strange replied calmly. "Oswald Cobblepot is a very tormented individual. He needed reminding of those fears for him to be cured."

"You call wiping his mind clean 'curing' him?" Lacey scoffed, "who're you kidding, thinking you're healing us? We're just test subjects, we're no different to those soon-to-be monsters in those tubes."

Instead of retaliating, Strange merely raised an eyebrow; silently studying Lacey from across the room.

"I want you to fix Cobblepot. After the service I've offered down here it's the least you can do." Lacey shrugged, taking a step closer to the doctor, her posture firm to demonstrate the authority she believed she held over him. "Especially since my boyfriend is _still_ bottled up over there."

"You want to be very careful when addressing me. I have a whole staff at my disposal and it would be easy enough to say that your state of mind deteriorated again…I could have you locked away in solitary for a very long time so don't forget who runs this asylum, Lacey." Strange matched Lacey's stride, moving to stand in front of her with the same unwavering demeanour. Like Lacey, he was serious. But while Lacey lacked the resources, Strange had the advantage. "I'd hate to have to bring up bad memories…or the alternate reality you're so afraid of."

"It didn't work." Lacey bit back smugly. "I'm not scared of a few false projections."

"So you're not scared of your father?"

"He's dead, remember? I killed him myself…"

Strange smirked, "but the projection showed a different version of events. You still think about that day, you still wonder what would've happened if you hadn't murdered him. Deep down, the fact that you could've had an entirely different year terrifies you. For you, this life is better. You're glad things turned out this way; you prefer being incarcerated to what could have been. What happens again in the scenario, Lacey? What does your father do?"

"Shut up!" Lacey shouted, reaching for the scalpel that lay on the nearby workbench. She pointed it at the doctor with a vicious look in her brown eyes, yet her shaking hand betrayed the defensive look she had hoped to maintain. For the first time in a long time, Lacey was shaken. "I could end you just like that!"

"And I could make you disappear entirely. Accidents happen all the time in this asylum…patients conduct vicious attacks on members of staff and leave them with no choice but to defend themselves…" He snapped his fingers and two orderlies appeared in the doorway. "Are you going to put the scalpel down, Lacey? Or are you prepared to see how far I'm willing to go to keep my project going?"

Lacey slowly lowered her weapon at that, but her hostile stare remained intact. "Don't get too comfortable down in this basement, Strange. The lunatics _will_ run the asylum in the end, I promise you that."

"Well until that day I think I'll get comfortable. At the end of the day, Lacey…you're just an insane child, it's my word over yours." Strange smirked wryly. "Now, you best put on that lab jacket…unless you would prefer matters to revert to their original state?"

Begrudgingly, Lacey took the lab coat from the orderly and slung it over her body. She wanted to throw it back in his face and take whatever punishment was coming to her, but then she thought of Jerome. Without her involvement in Strange's sick experiments, he would be a long away from his rebirth. Frankly, Lacey was playing nurse for his sake – but when Jerome returned to her, things would change entirely.

On that day, the lunatics would finally take over the asylum. And there would certainly be hell to pay.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaay Jerome is back on Gotham! So I'm probably going to have to speed things up a tiny bit haha!
> 
> Basically, I'm thinking within a few chapters we'll be up to speed with season 3 and the cult and suchlike so woop to more Lacey and Jerome interactions! I've missed them haha!
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter and leave a review if you have time! Thanks :)

The day that Galavan's tank was emptied was the day that Lacey was stripped of her life of imprisoned luxury.

She'd been deeply angry to find her proclaimed nemesis re-animated before her deceased boyfriend and this frustration had prompted Lacey to attack the authority she'd been presented with – how dare Strange go behind her back in such a way!

Tracking down Strange to one of his experimentation units, Lacey barged straight in but saw no sign of him or his assistant. Frowning, she approached the glass above and looked down into the room below; startled to see an all-too familiar face staring back up at her, a certain ferocity in his eyes. For a moment, Lacey watched puzzled; while Galavan looked the same, there was something off about the expression he wore and the way in which he presented himself. Before he had oozed a certain cocky self-assurance but now it was so much more – some kind of delusional superiority had absorbed him.

Deciding to take the chance, Lacey headed down into the main room and stood firmly by the door; remaining cautious of the man before her in case the experiments had given him some kind of dangerous ability.

"Remember me?" Lacey uttered, taking one step closer, all while Galavan stood staring baffled at her. "Lacey. Lacey Monroe."

"You should not be in here." Galavan furrowed his brow, his eyes intense and brow furrowed. "Puny girl, leave now. I am all-powerful, I have the order of St. Dumas on my side."

"You what?" Lacey cocked her head to the side. "You okay Theo?"

"I am Azrael!" Galavan bellowed, his expression lacking any humanity as he threw his arms in the air. "And you will bow down to me!"

Lacey almost laughed at that. "What, are you some kind of god now?"

Without warning, Galavan grabbed hold of Lacey by the throat, squeezing tightly as she gasped for air, clutching at his wrists as she was lifted off the ground. "I am Azrael! You will address me as such and bow down to me!"

Her breathing speeding up, Lacey clutched at Theo's hands, feeling the room spinning around her. She knew she didn't have the physical strength to fight back, nor could she verbally defend herself. So when she heard the door swing open, Lacey would've thanked some other force if she could've.

Although a faint echo, Lacey recognised Strange's voice; his words inaudible yet she gathered he must've been convincing. Galavan dropped Lacey to the floor and she lay there, gasping desperately as the room slowly fell in and out of focus. That was when she felt Strange lift her to her feet and quickly drag her out of the room with the help of Ms Peabody, while Galavan continued to rant and rave to himself in the darkened room.

* * *

Lacey woke up in a hospital bed, although she wasn't in the infirmary, rather in what appeared to be a private room. It seemed quaint and clean, with white walls and the smell of fresh linen and most refreshing of all…silence. No faint screams or mad ramblings could be heard, just a certain tranquillity that Lacey had believed to be long gone. That was the reason why it all felt a little too surreal.

A shadow in the doorway caught Lacey's attention and she looked up, trying to focus her attention in order to make out the figure at the end of the room. "Where am I?"

The lack of response displeased Lacey and she raised her voice somewhat, although it cracked somewhat. "Where the fuck am I? Who are you?"

One step, two steps…the figure strode slowly over to Lacey until the lamp illuminated their features, bringing an identity to their shadow. Lacey couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"You know who I am, Lacey." A soft voice spoke, a gentle yet firm smile in place. "And don't worry, you're in good hands."

"Tania, what the hell? You're fucking dead, I killed you."

Doctor Roberts shrugged as she approached Lacey's bed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Maybe so, but the human mind is a very powerful tool…and yours brought me here."

"Okay, what meds did Strange give me? Because I'm either drugged up or I've truly lost my mind." Lacey scoffed, and tugged her arms, frowning when she discovered she was bound to the bed. "Okay doc, just say whatever it is you came here to say then leave my mind."

"You're wrong to trust Strange, you know." She insisted, "he's using your devotion to Jerome to get what he wants. He knows you're valuable and he doesn't want you to get better."

"Neither do I." Lacey muttered, narrowing her eyes as the therapist took a seat at her bedside. "I love being crazy, I don't want to go back."

"He wants to turn you into one of his creations. Just like with Jerome, and Galavan…you've witnessed the products of his psyche first-hand, Lacey. How can you still trust him?"

Lacey shrugged, "I don't trust him, I just need him to revive Jerome. Then things can go back to normal."

"Normal?" Another female voice caught Lacey's attention and she turned her head to the right, only to be met with a sad and familiar expression. "The word sounds foreign coming from you, Lacey. There is no normal when it comes to you. You were always this way, a stranger to me. It just became more severe as you got older…"

Lacey tried to sit up, her body tensing slightly as the woman walked towards her. "Mom? Why are you here?"

"We should've sent you to an asylum sooner, it would've saved a lot of trouble – and a lot of lives." Doreen hung her head. "Maybe then your father and I could have been at peace."

"Not likely, he was an abusive misogynistic pig." Lacey shook her head. "How can you still defend him after everything he did."

"You were always an embarrassment, a disappointment." Doreen whispered with a sad edge to her voice. "I always longed for a daughter who would be beautiful and graceful but you were neither of those things. Hell, you weren't even normal. You cried too much as a baby, you demanded too much attention as a child…then suddenly you became withdrawn. I never knew what was on your mind, you'd just sit in the corner of the room and stare…like some inhuman being."

"Like a monster."

Lacey couldn't help but recognise that voice instantly and she felt her heart in her chest as its owner stood directly over her bed, looking down on her as he'd always done.

"You're a monster, Lacey. You always were."

"You made me this way…" Lacey hissed, struggling in her restraints.

"You have no idea." Lawrence shook his head. "Everyone talked about your mother and I, because we raised such a sick creature. We were a laughing stock, because you could never act normally! You were always staring, always attracting some kind of unwanted attention. You were a waste of space, a waste of life. Perhaps my methods of discipline were…unconventional, but it was the only way to teach you a lesson. You were inferior and you had to understand that."

"It wasn't discipline, it was abuse." Lacey balled her hands into fists, so tightly that her nails dug into her skin. "You were the sick one, not me."

Lawrence leaned closer to Lacey, causing her to shrink away in fear. She hated herself for being so afraid but her father had caused her to live in terror for years. Even though she'd murdered him herself, there had always been that fear that one day he'd return. Lacey did have a weakness after all, her biggest fear, and it was the man who should've protected her. The man who was supposed to offer unconditional love and comfort…who was supposed to walk her down the aisle someday…not push her over the edge of sanity.

"Everything I did was for your own good. You deserved everything you got, you pathetic little bitch." Lawrence's tone was cruel, his words cut through Lacey like a sharp blade. She'd heard it all before; her father's critique of her became the norm in the months leading up to his death yet it still filled her with rage. All while causing her to involuntarily quiver in fear. Because she knew all-too well that Lawrence Monroe was a man who would never back down. He was willing to resort to the most extreme lengths just to maintain order in his kingdom. And even though Lacey knew she was dreaming, she still felt the sting of what he was saying. She still feared for her life.

Desperately, she turned to her left to find the chair once occupied by Tania Roberts to be empty, and to her right, no sign of her mother. It was just Lacey and Lawrence in the white room.

"Stay away from me!" Lacey shouted, thrashing her body frantically in an attempt to break free from the bed that she had been confined to. She needed to get out, to get away from the man who had destroyed her. The man who had harmed her time and time again. "Help! Help me!"

Lacey felt the room shrink around her, the four walls closing in as Lawrence drew his knife and placed it against Lacey's throat. "It has to be done, Lacey. Remember that."

Screaming desperately, Lacey closed her eyes as Lawrence drew his arm back, preparing to strike. But she felt no pain, no sharp sensation. Instead, all she heard was laughter.

Carefully opening her eyes, Lacey saw no sign of her father, but instead she saw Jerome before her; his grin wide and menacing, but it made her feel safe. She couldn't help but smile. "Jerome…you're here…you're alive."

Stepping over Lawrence's body, Jerome freed Lacey from her restraints and chuckled. "What, you think I'd stay away forever? Don't you know me at all, gorgeous?"

"You have no idea how good it is to see you." Lacey sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed as she stared at Jerome in bewilderment, trying to find some kind of abnormality that would remind her that she was only dreaming. But everything was the same, he hadn't changed one bit. "Please tell me this is real, that you're real."

"Of course I am, gorgeous. I know I'm ridiculously handsome and all but all this is real." The redhead gestured to his body then laughed. "But seriously, you just gonna sit there or are you gonna come with me?" He held out his hand. "C'mon, Lacey. It's time to go."

Lacey reached forward to take Jerome's hand but stopped herself, reluctant yet somehow certain. "No, I can't. You're not real and I need to wake up before you can come back for good. I will see you again Jerome, I will bring you back if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

A sharp jolt brought Lacey back to reality and she saw her surroundings for what they really were. Her clean bed was really an operating table and the white room was quite the opposite. She noticed Hugo Strange standing over her, a focused look on his face as he took a step back upon noticing her wake up.

"Strange…what's…" Lacey winced as a sharp pain shot through her body.

"I apologise my dear but, well, I realised that you just weren't strong enough. You needed an…upgrade."

Confused, Lacey looked down and was mortified to see that her right arm was adorned with scales, and that her hand had been replaced with a reptilian-looking claw. She gasped, genuinely panicked. "What did you do!"

"I imagined you'd be pleased…you have no idea how much strength will be within that arm alone. Of course it'll be an adjustment but, well, you're such a glorious creation." The pride in Strange's voice made Lacey feel sick and she couldn't bear to look at her arm, instead shaking her head furiously as the medication she'd been drugged with continued to play with her head.

"You're batshit crazy!" Lacey exclaimed, crying in pain when she tried to move her arm. "Fucking insane!"

"I understand that you're upset, but soon you will come to realise that I've granted you with an amazing ability." The doctor's tone hardly altered, even when Lacey began screaming angrily. His posture remained firm, as did his expression. He was completely unmoved; fixed in his belief that his actions were necessary.

"You've turned me into a monster!" Lacey tried to sit up but was far too disorientated. "We're through, Strange! You might as well kill me now because I'll never be one of your fucked up minions!"

Strange shook his head, "in time, Lacey. Once you've adjusted to your new uniqueness then you'll thank me. You'll see."

Lacey had no idea what happened after that; pain searing through her body, she blacked out, waking up days later in yet another unfamiliar room. But this time, something felt different.


End file.
